Author: Christopher-Dorset

A Bloody Kangaroo

The week that was and the week that is to come.

On Saturday the 7th of August my da and I drove with a full ute  to San Francisco in order for me to move into the flat that was, my contract, mine for at least a year. Upon arriving at the leasing company’s office I was informed that they had no record of it and that, in fact, the lease was invalid as the lease agent who signed it was, according to the new lease agent, in no authority to sign it as her company no longer owned the property when she did so. Having just spent 4 hours on the road and 30 minutes trying desperately to find a loo I was somewhat less than clear in my thoughts when this news was delivered. Worse, even, the flat was occupied by the new property manager! Since the lease was not valid, the nice young lady said, there was absolutely no way they could require him to move. Instead, a smaller, cheaper, less desirable flat in the same building was offered to me. In a state of panic and confusion I signed the second lease and went to inspect it. It was, in short, simply unliveable. The carpet was tattered and taped down. The walls were peeling lead paint and wall paper. I could not, under any circumstance, content myself to living in those conditions for any period of time. After rescheduling a delivery of furniture from IKEA my da and I drove back across California to the small mountain town where I am, once again, sitting. My father, more cynical than even I — and such a thing IS possible — had me investigate the issue further. By Monday afternoon the situation had changed drastically. After discussing the matter with the San Francisco Rent Board and the Housing Rights Commission of San Francisco I found out that the original lease was, in fact, legally binding AND valid and that the second lease was, in fact, void. Since I only signed it under false pretences and under emotional duress the contract simply would not hold up under California law. At the moment I am in the process of working with a solicitor in order to have the second lease voided and my deposit/first month’s rent returned to me. I have hotel rooms booked for the following six days and will look for a new place to live then. I have written one woman who has a basement flat for rent and have written another man who has a small, but fully furnished, flat to rent. Once this is sorted I will let you all know the details.

A poem for the night

This poem, while short, encapsulates my worldview and has proven definitive in the formation of it.

“Nationality” by Dame Mary Gilmore (Australian)

I have grown past hate and bitterness,
I see the world as one;
But though I can no longer hate,
My son is still my son.

All men at God’s round table sit,
and all men must be fed;
But this loaf in my hand,
This loaf is my son’s bread.

On this 4th of July

On this 4th of July let us remember the history and legacy of the greatest land in the history of the world (after Australia and Uruguay for those who would argue that point with me), the United Kingdom. For better or worse that sceptred isle set the tone for the rest and no country, despite their pretensions, have been able to match her in influence and success. (Until 1997)