WOW HOWS THE HOUSE NOW

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WOW HOWS THE HOUSE NOW

Postby john latham » Thu May 15, 2008 4:58 am

I have a book to list. Can you help?

Currently the best web view is at www.bookstore.bookpod.com.au ‘wow hows the house now’


And Amazon (due for update)


See attachment for synopsis

FROM MY book



This ‘home’ is a global thing; Earth, locale and people in motion.

A GLOBAL TALE
Don’t be self-centred, at least for a moment. An ordinary Sydney chap, whom I call Bobby Dazzler, lived with his inherent inclination toward enhancing an already superb environment. Looking to facilitate and celebrate the magic of people in this world, he became aware of unrealised potentials and heart-felt frustrations among people across the four-corners. Bobby's house was pretty ordinary. But then, so was his breakfast. "There's something very special and global about these ordinary things,” he thinks in his kitchen as he oils the pan. “Everyperson everywhere rises from bed and swallows breakfast. But only I have this particular frypan, these fingerprints and ….” Somebody had spoken; he'd gone into a dream. He grabbed his coat; grabbed his hat; found his way downstairs in seconds flat. Stepped outside. Quickly tracked through nature’s depleted vegetated surrounds. From the bus he glanced back at his house. It nestled in the picturesque grotto with a backdrop of contemptible suburban heater haze. He loved his home though, including his immediate neighbours idyllically endowed in carefully photographed crisp modern houses on small property allotments flanking his two acre nature nook in the suburban sprawl. As he moved on, through the unecologic repetitive shambles he could see the world collapsing - and the rich intrinsic beauties of the monotonous urban character. Rare trees going to rafters and smoke – just part of the fact. Wide eyed he dreamed of the people in India dieing of tuberculosis, caused simply by the cow dung smoke in their otherwise quaint huts. Under their feet across the Earth Mexicans were clambering back to their slums in preference to alien modern buildings. All of the characters on the bus were off to work with the loving compassion of their mortgager as their first awareness. Bobby’s thinking, broadening from the egg in his frypan, acknowledged the sullage drain and foundation trench, moved across his suburb and vehicular locale, across the coastal strip and the mountain spine, drifted up through the stratosphere where looking he saw. Good earthy resources are being converted into unsustainable things at an unsustainable rate. Beautiful life-support landscape being eaten by the orthogonal dwelling things - houselocusts. As well, the houselocusts were running out of this food and their bodies therefore chemically mutating – less organic, more plastic.

A fellow passenger unaware began relating ecstatically to the dazed dreaming Dazzler. About her partly finished new house. Rich, earthy brick, clear sheets of glass, corners, shapes and room. Amenity, utility, surfaces, constructional handmarks alive. Architectonic. It would transform her daily self into accomplished freedoms. Open whole new vistas of personal life. He faced her with a cooking oil stain on his shirt, knowing the house location; "It’s horribly good …that. A fantastic abode for you. I hope we can afford replacement pasture. And is there room for the consequent increment of industrial growth and road extension? I'll be designing a whole new suburb this week. I know what you mean, absolutely fantastic, but …. I read the news today. Oh boy! It’s a global tale - horribly good."

Bobby reeled as he sought options to throw his effort toward a "supremely good" scenario. Fantastic. "Horribly good" is not real. Certainly an ecological scenario was a bare minimum. His thoughts came together. A clearer than day bolt of truth. He would have to leave his job. But he couldn't; his job was horribly important. It was perpetuating the melee, but at least it was paying his mortgage. He was hamstrung by his own house. To hamstring, is no aim of the house builder. His tasks and priorities at home with his companions had him snagged. Domestic politics must be done; the family must weigh it up. Is it better to contrive your family’s lives around your house and locale, or to bring your house around your lives - or both? Is there time to build, or is it better spent in some dolphinian way; is the unenhanced wooden spear better than the microwave? This was an issue also for sociological and ecological politics.

Bobby was most perplexed by the complexities, problems, mysteries, lures and misconceptions as the knowledge moths fluttered to his illuminating enquiry; the politics of housing weighing against his love for his sunlit Australian loungeroom and what it offered. His mortgage was an integral part of his housing process.

Housing process. The getting of the house. The process is frustrated. Frustrated. He was happy though - if he cared to be complacent. Bobby was straining at the leash. He wanted it all. He wanted everybody to have it all – perfect dream houses all round please, my shout. "But I was sure I had it all at breakfast," mumbled Bobby from his haze. "I just can't wait to hang the Picasso print,” retorted the fellow passenger, basking blissful and lost in her own interior. House bound, she looked forward. “Housebound – hypnotised, trapped,” reflects Dazzler, on the ambiguity of ‘bound’. “Utterly over-cooked.” And with others they continued in the bus. The driver's name is Global Pale. His address was originally Eden.



There was a glass of lemonade in his refrigerator. “How do the Blackfellas manage without a fridge?” he mused, as he imagined a familiar face tanned from birth cheekily asking, “Now … What you mean you say fridge, Global?” Global fancies that he’s making an eloquent reply; “The answer my friend is in the drinking. The answer … is in the drinking”.





John
Attachments
about hows house.pdf
ABOUT THE HOUSE
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john latham
 
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