Page 6 - Tropic Magazine Issue 10
P. 6

EDITOR’S

                                            LETTER


                                            Gavin King






                       I’m driving east on Mulgrave Rd      eerily quiet January afternoon that you
                       towards the Cairns CBD, kids in the back,   couldn’t let a car merge well ahead in
                       summer heat blasting off the bitumen.   front of you? Was there an extended
                       I check the side mirror and flick the right   Boxing Day sale on cartons of Winnie
                       indicator on so I can turn into Severin St   Blues at the tobacconist? Running late to
                       and park at the Tropic office. Looking   your appointment for a lobotomy, maybe?
                       over my shoulder to see if it’s safe to
                       merge, I see there’s plenty of room to slip
                       across ahead of a white Camry Sedan
                       travelling along at a steady pace a little   I dig deep into an already
                       further back. I’m ready to drift over.
                       Ready, that is, until the Camry driver     depleted reservoir of
                       reverts to his inner Neanderthal and hits   internalised calm and
                       the accelerator in a bid to block my            diplomacy
                       attempt to merge. Caveman Joe speeds
                       up to the extent I have to swerve back
                       into the middle lane to avoid
                       side-swiping him.
                       The buffoon behind the wheel, now doing   If I’ve got one wish for Cairns in 2018,
                       about 70 km/h, is sanguine as he races   apart from prosperity, good health and
                       past without so much as a glance in my   safety for all, it’s that we take time to be a
                       direction. There’s a cigarette dangling   little kinder and more forgiving to each
                       from his mouth and the tinted windows   other. Let’s learn to merge,
                       are wound up as it’s hot outside and the   metaphorically speaking.
                       air-con’s on. I guess he’s not the type to
                       waste all that perfectly noxious
                       second-hand smoke, because, you know,
                       recycling.
                       Mindful of the innocent children in the
                       back seat, I dig deep into an already
                       depleted reservoir of internalised calm
                       and diplomacy (it's the school holidays,   Gavin King
                       after all) and stop myself blasting the
                       horn and hurling the worst kinds of   P.S. A 12-month subscription to Tropic
                       profanity and bile in his direction. Of   Magazine is just $56, equivalent to a few
                       course, abusing him wouldn’t make a lick   cocktails or a week’s worth of takeaway coffees.
                       of difference anyway because he’s driving   Stay in the loop, support our 100% local focus
                       in a hermetically sealed, smoke-filled car   and get the good stuff delivered in print the
                       but that’s beside the point. Seriously,   old-fashioned way to your letterbox. Visit the
                       mate, what is so incredibly urgent on this   magazine tab on tropicnow.com.au for details.
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