I HAD intended this column to be a political rant. To vent my spleen, so to speak, against the forces which are threatening to destroy the Liberal Party.
I have no time for Malcolm Turnbull and regard him as a weak, show pony leader and prime minister.
I especially despise him for what he did to his former leader, Dr Brendan Nelson.
But I have to say he is not doing too bad a job economically, although he seems to not realise that the dribble-down policy does not work for those on lower incomes.
Consequently, the rich get richer and the poor get poorer.
Money may indeed make money, but you have to have it in the first place.
However, it is not Malcolm Turnbull that I have in my sights.
It’s the former leader of the Libs and ex-prime minister, Tony Abbott, and his right-wing media commentators and broadcasting mates who have turned out to be nothing but thugs.
You will remember Abbott, as the deposed leader, said there would be no sniping. But that has not been the case.
However, he has not had to do too much in this area. And why would he, with the likes of Andrew Bolt, Alan Jones, Ray Hadley, Peta Credlin, Terry McCrann et al absolutely crucifying Turnbull?
It would seem that the conservative media commentators don’t care if the Libs lose the next election, so long as Malcolm Turnbull gets the flick.
But if their favoured choice is Abbott, then they are in for a rude shock from the Australian people.
The Liberal Party is not about conservatives, but free thinkers who are able to conceive policies outside the box.
Turnbull is no Julia Gillard, especially when it comes to getting legislation through the parliament. Abbott, however, is certainly a Kevin Rudd.
While I was going through all this, getting ready to really lash out at the right-wing troglodytes, I had, what you more learned readers might call, an epiphany.
One which made me realise there are plenty of good people out there who make the business of politics all so trivial.
During the week, The Lioness and I had a quiet night out, getting home quite early.
But not early enough for my bride, it would it seem, as she was quite excited about life, animated and, dare I say it, quite merry – for want of a better word. The consequences of which was that she could not find her house keys.
So, she was forced to break into the house through a secret entrance.
“Oh well”, I thought, “we will find the keys in the morning in that black hole she calls a handbag.”
Then, at 1.45am, I got a text from the taxi driver who had dropped us off earlier, asking us if we were missing a set of keys, while at the same time apologising for texting so late in the night.
When I texted back in the affirmative, she was at our house within minutes.
She kept apologising for not finding the keys earlier and said she wanted to drop them off before she finished her shift in case we needed the keys for work in the morning.
She also refused to accept my offering of $10 for all her troubles, despite my insistence she do so.
And her reason? It was the right thing to do she said.
My thoughts were that she was crazy, as she had gone way beyond the definition of excellent service.
I guess there really are angels who walk among us.