I appeared before a Supreme Court judge this week. More later.
Meanwhile, I’m sure that Soroptimists are lovely people.
In fact, Soroptimist International is a worldwide organisation for women in management and professions, working through service projects to advance human rights and the status of women.
But I wish they would buy their own camera, or use a mobile phone that has a camera inbuilt.
Ever since I started in my current job, and for years before, a Soroptomist drops into the office regularly to collect a tiny battered camera. They use it to take photos of guest speakers, handover ceremonies and the like.
They are the only community organisation that does this and nobody else in the office uses the dilapidated camera.
This week a Soroptimist called in and the camera was missing.
Most of the staff had the good sense not to bother me with this dilemma, apart from the cadet, who is too young and bulletproof to know or worry about distracting an editor on deadline with issues like that.
I told her relatively politely I had no idea where the camera was.
I tried to block out what was happening around me, but two receptionists, the office manager, the cadet and two journalists spent the next half an hour looking for the camera and fending off the irritated Soroptimist.
It was finally agreed the camera could not be found. The Soroptimist then wanted a journalist to attend their handover dinner, three hours later at 6.30pm, to take photos!
I had to be consulted over that and I said it was impossible.
Another flurry of discussion occurred and the Soroptimist was temporarily given a camera from the production department, which is normally used to take pictures of cars, shoes and so forth.
Earlier that morning I had appeared before a Supreme Court judge.
I wasn’t in trouble, fortunately. Although pleasant, if not a little brusque, his honour can appear quite intimidating to someone who is unused to looking up at a severe figure in a red gown and wig.
I was making a representation, the details of which I can’t disclose for legal reasons.
Did I mention that we are in the early stages of a state election campaign and a murder trial is also under way?
Both demand my attention and significant staff resources.
In that context, the Soroptimist and the missing camera were friendly reminders of the joy of country newspapers.
To close the day I received a phone call from Mrs B.
She claimed to have a cactus that literally grows before your eyes. Mrs B said she planted a bulb earlier this year and it’s now 20 feet high.
Impressed, I dispatched a journalist with all haste.
What a day!
×0
God what a a pain, no wonder you feel so enthusiastic.
I would have lost it and told those Soroptimist types to go take a hike.
You did not do much better with the forboding figure in the wig and fancy dress either, Michael.
That is surely a good reason to cancel any day-due to a lack of interest.
Those Soroptimist types, aren’t they all high maintenace older women from some kind of exclusive sect??
I mean average types (like me) would not make the selection process, or get past the door of their club…the lesbian bouncers would sort me!
The cactus?…well they usually have prickles, could come in handy as a weapon…next time somone messes with your day.
Life tip…lose the camera and kill the cactus story!
I testified before a Supreme Court judge in Vancouver not long ago. He was in robes but without the wig. What I thought was interesting was the nervousness I felt — the other people in the room were all people I knew and I was simply answering some easy questions, but I still had a little bit of the nerves. (It didn’t help that each time I called him “your honor” a little voice in the back of my head remined me it was supposed to me “my lord.” He didn’t seem put off by it.)
It’s funny how nervous the courtroom can make you feel.
That’s interesting Canadian judges don’t wear wigs and that we don’t call our judges “My Lord” given we both inherited the British legal system.