The Great Kettering Man Drought Of 08

Mena Gimps It Up For Charity
Originally uploaded by JungsPN

So I've woken up this morning and I've got a day off which is really good because it means I can sleep in - I always plan to have a massive sleep in, but my head is too full of thoughts that are really loud in my head and I have to wake up. I have a massive fear of Collingwood players being interviewed in the paper because it means they play terrible in the next game they play - so when I get up I scan the papers to make sure no one has told the paper what great form they are in. I read the Herald Sun, because let's face it, when you read the Tasmanian papers and head for the social section, it's not as appealing. I love local events, but I also love reading about little fashion shows and club launches in Melbourne because I just that whole little sub celebrity vibe - exclusive, but not exclusive enough you can't set your sights on attenting - where TV Rock (the band you get when you can't get The Potbelliez) provide the soundtrack and Anne Maree Cooksley gets her free glass of champagne. I was obviously thus quite excited to read about Fashion Aid, hosted by Jennifer Hansen with special comments by Richmond Tigers star Matthew Richardson and a soundtrack by TV Rock. It's an obscure celebrity fest, and perfect for my girl Anne Maree to go to and do...whatever it is she does. I guess the girl in the picture, Melbourne model Mena, is the new Kasia Z (the girlfriend of Lance Franklin)...world keeps on spinning...

Anyway, enough about that, lest I start turning into Perez Hilton...I really hate him. What I've been mostly focusing on today in my thoughts is that Tassie is apparently suffering from a man drought. No doubt Melbourne model Mena can and will get herself a footballer, but if she was in Tasmania, she couldn't even do that. This man drought is apparently worse than the real drought, and certainly the Mercury is right on top of the situation, informing everyone that Kettering is the place to go if you are single and male - for every 1 single man, there are 9 single women. I don't know a lot about Kettering, I haven't been there very much although it's not far from Kingston. The only time I've ever been to Kettering was to see one of my friends play cricket at the semi legendary Kettering Oval, home of the equally legendary Taste Of The Huon festival where everything tastes of pork rinds and pine (good name for an album that). I went down there and it was about 1 degree, so we stayed in the car to watch the cricket and I didn't really realise I had on my Collingwood jacket. Now if you don't know Collingwood aren't the most popular team in the country, and as we were driving off, this kid with about two teeth and one beanie per brain cell has knocked on the car window and he's gathering his mates around to deliver some real witticism and he's pressing his spotty face right up against the glass - I didn't wind the window down, because I knew what they were going to say and it was going to involve the phrase "Collingwood" and "fucked"...with maybe the word are in the middle, or some spittle maybe. He wasn't going to debate me on the merits of Teenwolf Too or the music of Etienne De Crecy I wouldn't have thought. I've never even been to Ketterings main attraction, the Mermaid Cafe, where you can always enjoy a relaxed coffee (stressed coffees presumably failed the interview) and stunning harbour views. It seemed like a really nice, friendly local community in fairness, the people selling the Violet Crumbles seemed to have their heart right in the community, and I love that, but I can't help feeling if the beanie to brain cell ratio in the average male is as the fine example of Kettering manhood proved to be, then no wonder there's a man drought...

The Mercury chose to illustrate the story with two girls called Kelly and Alix (wasn't she one of the people who ate some glazed boar at the end of the Asterix books?), one of whom said something about "all the single men are hiding or gay" and you kind of knew that the word gay wasn't the word she used and it was cleaned up in editing. I don't know these girls, or whether they live in Kettering, but one was on her mobile phone and one was drinking coffee. They didn't seem strangers to the Syrup scene, but I kind of thought there props were meant to represent individuality and how independent they were and the lifestyles they lead, but there's nothing worse than being cracked onto in a coffee shop, which is where I think Alix is going wrong. I was cracked onto in Gloria Jeans once, while I was waiting for my Latte (ooh, get you you Age reader), almost being dragged onto the horns of desperation by a girl who cracked onto me by talking about invidual types of coffee beans and how much she liked the fact that Starbucks was selling Paul McCartney Cds (she would have had me had she preferred the single work of Ringo, La Di Da is awesome). I hadn't been that uncomfortable since I was in a queue where an old woman was individually discussing her coupon rights with all 6 staff in the shop, and no one else was getting served, and my friend was audibly wishing her a heart attack...as for Kelly and her thinly veiled homophobia, I think she might be one of Syrups infamous corner girls. If you don't know, in Syrup lately there's a group of girls who stand in the corners of Syrup talking on their mobile phone, and if they get chatted up by someone they don't like, they just tap their phone as if they are busy and stare into the middle distance until the would be paramour (I love Misery Business, what a great song) gives up and moves on, hopefully not to a different corner. My mate swears he tried to chat up a girl who's phone was clearly off when she was doing this - so why bother going out? Surely there's some great things on TV now Hey Hey It's Saturday isn't on anymore? There's certainly nothing wrong with standards though and I think good on Kelly and Alix for refusing to settle - hell, if I hadn't settled, I'd probably not be a Collingwood supporter, and how much happier would I be then!

I guess the other thing with Kettering that I know is that it seems to be a bit of an "alternative lifestyle" (hello Kelly) culture, ie. Xavier Rudd fans. I can't speak too openly on this as a reason for the man drought, but I can speak on the great Burnie man drought of 98, which seemed to be something everyone was really keen to tell me about when I went up there that year for the summer. It was the talk of pubs, and clubs, and Maggies Bazaar (I've so got to get to that place soon) - my guide to this man drought was a girl called Candice, who always told me that every single man in Burnie was a jerk and a hobo and a wife beater and a Tom Petty fan (she hated that Mary Jane song). She would illustrate this by flirting with people in pizza shops, outside K-Mart or on the phone until they displayed their incompatibility to her by listing a book, movie or TV show or displaying a characteristic she didn't find acceptable. In my case, even though I wasn't from Penguin, according to her we could never go out because I liked Tori Amos, although this was never really qualified. I think she just thought I was a minger. Now I'm not Peter Positive, but this seemed to be entirely the wrong way to go about things, a little bit like if I picked up a javelin, said there's no way in hell I can throw this javelin it's a stupid sport, and then deliberately throwing it backwards to prove my point. Candice would always tell me every single man she ever met was lazy, with the exception of Nelson Mandela. She absolutely loved Nelson Mandela, found him really inspirational, and even though she was in her twenties, would have engaged Winnie in a bout of foxy boxing just to get with the guy. Eventually though, even Nelson failed her. I remember she told her that she had lost the last man she ever thought was perfect while we both had a Caramel Big M at the bus stop one day. She interrupted me midway through my fascinating description of the exact way to make a Blue Heaven Big M to tell me that, finally, Nelson Mandela was also off the list. I asked her why, and she stared wistfully at her shoes, shrugged, and said "saw him with the Spice Girls..."

I don't know what became of Candice, but I like to think she's living in Kettering, having coffee with Alix, and picking holes in St Francis Of Assisi...