The Electrical Experience (13 page)

That next bright morning he called around to the motel to collect Becker and take him to the Lookout—this visiting American he'd met at Rotary the previous night and who knew his daughter Terri in the city.

The American was bemused.

‘No,' he said to this Becker, ‘you must see our Points of Historical Interest.'

He liked visitors. They filled the time he had, it seemed, these days.

‘After all we are, or I was, in the same business, Mr Becker. I was making soft drinks before you were born. Now, of course, retired. Would you believe there were independent cordial-makers in every country town before you chaps came along with your Proprietary lines—Coca-Cola, Jusfrute, Schweppes. Still that's Progress, I suppose.'

‘Situations and people's subsequent behaviour make the meaning of some words clear,' he said.

‘Sorry, sir?'

‘Just thinking aloud. No matter.'

School of Arts—Tap-dancing, Tues., Thurs., Sat.

‘That was where the Science Club used to meet before the war. These days they use it for Housie—the Catholics. I suppose we have the answer to everything now. This has always been a brick town. Weatherboard towns don't trust themselves. I've always said a brick building was a statement of faith.'

‘Brick, sir???'

Street Light, Weathered-grey Ironbark Blackened with Creosote at the Base

‘Believe it nor not, that's our first street light—still standing. Not that it is a Point of Historical Interest. I just mention that in passing. I can remember when it was our only street light. It was a carbide light, before I moved a motion that we have a row of electric lights in the street run off the generator from sunset to midnight, except on moonlight nights—we were a bit tight, that council. I made one of the speeches
on Switch-on Night from the back of Carberry's Fiat motor-lorry …

‘We had a potted palm on the lorry and a table draped with the Australian flag. Coloured lights. I have always said Australians don't know how to put on a Show—have a proper ceremony. I was telling you last night about the St Louis Rotary Convention. Now, you Americans, you people know how to put on a Show.'

‘Yes, sir, you did tell me.'

‘Towns should be masters of their own affairs and powers unto themselves. I have always avoided this bowing and scraping that goes on with city parliamentarians. I remember thinking at the time that electricity power and its conveniences might equalise the country and the city and keep the young from
leaving the town. We failed to keep our young. My two daughters have gone.'

‘Ironbark poles—all ironbark poles and many still standing.'

‘One old chap I remember said that it was extending daylight unnaturally. Most people, he said, didn't want to be moving about at night. But we are go-ahead down this part.'

‘I replied that we have to go where Science takes us. That's the destiny of our Times. He said that he knew very well where Science was taking us.'

‘Do you mind if I smoke, sir?'

‘No, by all means.'

He pulled out the ashtray for the American. ‘I myself
have never smoked and did not take alcohol until I was fifty. Both my daughters smoke, I don't know why. I always believed though, privately, that I could become a heavy drinker if I ever had let myself go.'

Tutman's Ice Works—‘Safe and Pure'—Two Shillings in the Slot

‘Now there's an interesting story. My childhood friend, the late James Tutman, built that ice works and it's still going. He was a pioneer of ice-making in this country. First to make block ice, or one of the first. I once predicted that it was finished. Now his son's put ice in plastic bags for service stations and hotels.'

‘We were great friends and business associates and fellow Rotarians. Do you know what my greatest mistake was?'

‘No, sir. What was your greatest mistake?'

‘I decided against going into ice-cream manufacturing. The coast is ideally suited. Milk, butter, cheese. I decided against ice-cream. Why? I thought domestic
refrigeration would spell the end to commercial ice-cream. I thought every woman would make ice-cream in her home. I was wrong. Throughout my life I have underestimated the laziness, lack of initiative, lack of resourcefulness of the human race.'

‘H. L. Mencken once said, sir, that no one has ever gone broke underestimating the public taste.'

Dr Trenbow's Former Residence with Wireless Aerial

‘Am I boring you with all this talk of the old days?'

‘No, not at all. But sooner or later I have to get on with my calls.'

‘That stone residence is where old Dr Trenbow lived. He, too, was an advanced thinker. He had the first wireless set in this town and formed a Radio Listening-in Club. It was in 1924 when F. P. Naylor, representing the Associated Radio Company of Australia, visited this town.

‘The wireless annihilated distance. I'll tell you a funny thing. They used to say that until we had wireless, this town was always about ten minutes behind the world. The town clock was always slow by about ten minutes. Every time someone went up to the city, they found their watch slow. When wireless came, we could set the clock by that.'

‘That's intriguing, sir.'

McDowell's Cordials and Aerated Waters—Tru-frute Flavours—Now Demolished Except for the Brick Front which Still Stands

‘I built that factory in 1925, lived in it until I married. Get out, we'll have a look around. You'll be interested, being in the soft-drink business, yourself.'

‘This is where the Eckersley Carbonator was—over here—and the Progressive bottle-washing machine here. And this here was my office, this slab here was my office.'

‘Economic factors and economies of scale. That was where the men's shower was.'

‘Soon towns will be just refrigerated outlets for frozen products made for us god-knows-where by people we've never met. Soon we won't even bake our own daily bread.'

‘Morning, George, sentimentalising again, I see.'

‘Our editor, Ben Backhouse, this is Mr Becker from the United States.'

‘Ben, whatever happened to Frank Hanley?'

‘Can't remember, George.'

‘What happened to Boot? I met Boot once with my father. He had the paper at Tilba and then Cobargo.'

‘That's a long way back, George.'

‘I own all the shops in the arcade, which was my idea. How many towns do you know that have an arcade? But it's not the same, not the same as being a manufacturer. Why, I'm just a collector of rents now.'

‘You've done very nicely, George. No one is going to listen to your whingeing.'

‘I was telling Mr Becker that I was in soft drinks myself until two years ago. No one to take over things. No son. Of course, I'm a rich man. My eldest daughter has done very well—a headmistress. I often ask myself these questions …'

‘In my own way I was once quite a philosopher. You'd agree with that, Ben?'

‘Oh yes, George, you were.'

‘I have always said the small town is the answer to our problems. We will one day have to return to the small town. I was against
small-mindedness
, but always for
small towns
. It's not how many square miles in a country that makes it great: it's how many square people. I see, only recently, a young fellow from the
university agreed with me about the towns. He said the future is in small communities. I cut the piece out. His name was McGregor. Or was it Craig. I held high hopes for the country way of life, Ben. You'd agree with that, I once wrote the Creed. Do you remember the Creed, Ben? You printed it. The point of ever larger cities eludes me. This is where the men's showers were, where I'm sitting now.'

‘George?'

‘Ben. Have you met this American chap from Coca-Cola?'