Sunday, September 2, 2012


As an aspiring writer, I was ecstatic to discover today, by chance, that my words feature in a published book!

 For many years, cartoonist Oslo Davis has had a spot in the Sunday Age’s M Magazine called Overheard. As Melburnians would know, he eavesdrops on personal conversations around town, taking note of the strange and often idiotic remarks we make; these are then shared with the Age readers accompanied by an original illustration. Recently, a compilation of Oslo’s mini-masterpieces was released in the form of a book called, simply, Overheard. And, it was in the gift shop at Melbourne Museum today that I picked up a copy of the book to find this:
Hmm... Ok, let’s rewind to 2009. I was having lunch with a friend on Brunswick St. I was hungry. I couldn’t decide between the bolognese pizza – an orgasmic creation of bolognese sauce slathered on a pizza base and capable of making me go weak at the knees – or the trusty burger and chips. See where I’m going here? So, I asked the waiter, not for his preference because that means little to me, but for the option that was kinder on the waistline. From the reaction I got from both said waiter and my friend, it became apparent that my knowledge of basic nutrition left much to be desired. Ha ha, we all had a good laugh, at my expense, and that was that.

So, you’re probably thinking the chances of a professional stalker – I mean illustrator – sitting at the next table to us is likely to be slim and how do I remember such an unremarkable day three years ago in such detail anyway? Well, you’d be correct to think that for as much as I love the image, it’s very unlikely that Oslo, in his Sherlock Holmes trench coat, was perched at a bench metres away, pipe in hand, scribbling away at his notebook.

 It’s worth noting that I went through a period of letter writing a few years ago – to newspapers, magazines, anyone who cared to listen – on inane topics such as the relevance of Big Brother and Ray Martin. So, for fear of my moment of wit (idiocy, whatever) being lost forever, I chose to email Oslo that afternoon, on the off chance that he would feel inspired to immortalise us. Try not to judge me as you look at the evidence.
Notice how I refer to myself as a detached ‘girl’ in the hope of clinging onto whatever remnants of dignity left? There you have it: evidence of my very own words making it to print. Sure, it’s not the most profound or insightful thing ever written but that didn’t stop me from cutting out the original copy of my caricature when it appeared in the paper a few weeks later. And while it may not bear my name, I take pleasure in the knowledge that I had a hand in making many people smile that Sunday.

So, Oslo, if you are reading this, I don’t hold any resentment for you taking my material for the enrichment of your book. I won’t even demand a cut of royalties. How could I, to the man whose cartoons made me smile every Sunday for so many years? However, if we do ever meet at a bar, I wouldn’t say no to a free beer.

1 comment:

  1. Melbourne has many things to see and visit but most of the people like to eat the best pizza in Melbourne.