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We've all encountered Bargearse. The driver who cuts you off in traffic. The person who pushes in front at the checkout. The kid that slips past you to take that last seat on the tram. The bloke who manspreads in the seat next to you in economy.
Sometimes, inadvertently, we're Bargearse ourselves. "Oh, I am sorry, I didn't see you there," we say with contrition when we realise we've done wrong. It's simple, really. Most of us don't want to be thought of as Bargearse.
If you're of a certain age, you'll remember Bargearse from TV in the early 1990s. He was the overweight detective with the terrible clothes, bad 1970s hairstyle and suffocating flatulence. Crass, crude, full of himself and comprehensively unlikeable. The embodiment of everything we did not want to be.
Last week, it seemed Bargearse had come back to life. There he was in blue at the seventh minute of the first State of Origin match. Joseph Suaalii's airborne shoulder crashed into Reece Walsh, rendering the Maroon fullback unconscious. The resulting send-off for the high tackle cruelled NSW's chances.
Bargearse made another appearance at Canberra Airport in the form of Peter Costello, Australia's longest-serving treasurer, the bloke who pioneered the smirk in our politics long before Scomo and is now chairman at Nine.
What actually happened when The Smirk was confronted by an eager journo from The Australian is in dispute. The journo insists he was shoved and fell as a result. The Smirk insists no contact was made, that the reporter fell over a placard. Eyewitnesses back the journo's account and the footage from his smartphone appears to clinch it.
But that's not the issue.
You and I and most reasonable people would stop to lend a hand if someone fell over in front of us (but not necessarily if they're flat on their back yelling into a phone next to a planter box). We'd help them up, dust them off. Not The Smirk. He stared momentarily before walking off.
Sure, the reporter had waited in ambush. And, yes, he threw a torrent of questions about Nine's woes, including recent revelations of its toxic work culture of bullying and sexual harassment. But The Smirk had been there before as a politician. He'd encountered hundreds of hungry reporters during his time in Canberra. It should have been water off a duck's back.
As chairman of a media company whose TV reporters are trained in the art of bailing people up outside courts, as they step out of their cars, as they run to avoid questions from the A Current Affair crew camped outside their house, he should have handled the situation with a little grace.
A simple answer - "I don't comment on board matters" - would have helped.
Instead, he barged on, silent and stony faced like an Easter Island statue until the disturbing close-up of the incoming chin and snarl in the split second before the journo came to grief.
Costello kept barging on, oblivious, it seems, to the smartphone recording the incident and how it would look when it became a national news story.
The irony was delicious. The chairman of the media company looking like one of the evasive tradies it routinely pursues on its nightly current affairs offering. Not even Bargearse could have done a worse job.
HAVE YOUR SAY: Could Peter Costello have handled himself better at Canberra Airport? Was the journalist at fault for peppering Costello with questions? What examples of Bargearse behaviour do you find most annoying? Email us: echidna@theechidna.com.au
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IN CASE YOU MISSED IT:
- Fruit growers have urged Australians to "buy local" after one of the country's largest food processors slashed its canned fruit production as shoppers turn to cheaper imported food. Shepparton-based SPC Global Ltd told its Australian suppliers it would cut its peach and pear intake by almost 40 per cent.
- Australian leaders are being urged to formulate plans to relocate communities most at risk from climate-fuelled natural disasters. An Australian National University report calls for a national relocation strategy to provide support and guidance for people needing to leave areas that are no longer liveable due to climate change.
- Elderly Australians in need of home care support face wait times up to nine months with the number of those in need doubling to 70,000 in just one year. The government is facing increasing pressure to reduce the delays with the number of those in limbo growing to 68,109 by May 31, 2024, from 28,665 in June last year.
THEY SAID IT: "The test of good manners is to be patient with the bad ones." - Solomon Ibn Gabirol
YOU SAID IT: Garry thought the bloody drongo was extinct - until he overheard the uniquely Aussie slang term being used in the supermarket.
"Memories, memories," writes Lyn. "Oh, how you bring them to my mind from time to time, Echidna. Sadly we seem to be losing all our old sayings and traditions. It's nice to have them brought back to life."
Susan still uses "dill": "Meaning stupid. And 'dope'. And I like 'crikey' and 'cripes'. Shows my octogenarian status I 'spose!"
"'Dunny' and 'ripper' are two great slang words," writes Jim. "And although probably not strictly an Australian word, 'twerp' was pretty much interchangeable with 'drongo'."
Peter from Canberra writes: "I'm a 1960s British migrant, so Australian slang doesn't come naturally to me - I've never been able to call people 'mate'. But I love 'old' Australia's vigorous language. I start emails with 'cooee' and sign off 'cheerio', not least because it's a way to fight the distressing creeping Americanism that infects our language 'right now'."
"My teenage son tells me off for saying 'Blimey, Charlie'," writes Rob.
Gwen writes: "While swearing, sadly, is probably our go-to slang, my husband and I still use Aussie slang, and 'daggy' and 'what a dag' are up there. He uses Bozo, mate and sheila, but he's old. I use crikey a lot because I try not to swear. My brother always used 'lairy' for fancy, and 'he's a lair', meaning a show-off. Tracky dacks and dacks are part of my clothes description. Dickhead, now a common term in any English-speaking country, originated, I believe, in Australia (I remember in the 1970s some US and Canadian friends being so impressed by the word, that they named their cat Dickhead)."
"I still use 'mate' all the time," writes Murray. "It exemplifies the egalitarian Australian attitude. Walk into a business, nod at the proprietor and say, 'mate', and no further formalities are required. The one word establishes that you respect them and expect the dealings will be mutually beneficial. What other single word can achieve that?"