PBM

June, 2006

I mentioned the purple balloon monkey in my last blog, something that has become an icon of awareness in my life.

What am I talking about?, well, I watched my mum deteriorate with dementia, that’s the word they applied to her condition, an all encompassing “she’s had it” type of condition that the medical authorities, with all their resources, could not fix.

But, the PBM is not really about my mum, it’s about all of us and something we should watch out for and maybe, if we slide down the same chute as my mum, something we won’t even see coming.

I’ve talked in the past about the fire and police services phoning up and asking for cash from the coffers to send little blind Timmy to the circus, about vacuum cleaner salesmen cold calling and demonstrating how good the Stratosucker 2000 multi purpose pocket vacuum is at removing ball bearings welded to a steel plate, and of course, mattress salesmen delivering free trial mattresses and then becoming extremely annoyed that you didn’t pay the $5000 for the masterpiece and left unmentionable stains.

Well, if I did tell you, I’ve probably forgotten already.

In my young boyish days, the Liverpool rag and bone man gave me balloons and semi-dead goldfish for silks and bike frames, in the more recent years, everyone has been lining up to coerce something out of me, using trickery, illusion and the occasional tempting purple balloon monkey.

One day I’ll give the deeds of the house away to a nice man in a top hat clutching one of those desirable items,

I’ll have my roof partially reshingled by passers by and my driveway will constantly be black and sticky with the $40 of engine oil and tar that I just paid $700 to have applied by another charmer.

I’ll win allsorts and won’t even have to leave my house.

Readers Digest and Publishers Clearing house will give me a good annual five or six million dollars, I’ll gladly pay the taxes and border brokerage fees on free intercontinental holidays from nice men on the phone and I’ll feel safe in the secure knowledge that the three thousand bottles of Fairy Liquid in the garage are going to make me a fortune one day.

The kids won’t need the inheritance anyway.

I’ll have my monkey.