Recently I was besieged by memories of days gone by, when people worked long and hard to scratch out a meagre living from the sea and the soil.
The most vivid scene was of the cabbage garden. Mother would pitch the water from the dishpan into the garden where the cabbage was to be planted in the spring. The phosphate from the dish liquid, along with scraps too small for the hens, tended to provide for excellent soil but would also make the grubs fat and plentiful. But the fat grubs still weren’t happy. When the tender cabbage leaves appeared they had to attack those as well.
I realized why that image was haunting me. The cabbage garden was the Senate, the grubs were certain senators, the dishwater was their exorbitant salaries and the cabbage leaves were the dollars garnered through dishonesty and deceit. It made sense.
What’s the solution? Well, we can’t expect action from the prime minister. He’d just plead ignorance that the Senate even exists. If we think the Senate is worth a yearly $15 million plus operating expenses, perks, graft and continual negative publicity, then we should replace it with an elected body or an apolitical one and give it a clear set of marching orders.