Acts of God they called them when I was a kid — when a tempest left a vessel in pieces on the rocks; when a branch gave up its ghost and squashed some unfortunate; when a volcano sealed villages forever in pumice; when a golfer got crisped while sheltering beneath a tree in a thunderstorm . . . So many ways God visits his wrath upon those some say he creates.
It was none of our fault, or anybody else’s. So all we did was to count and briefly mourn our losses, pick up the pieces and get on with the job of filling as creatively and as productively as possible the days, weeks, months or years before our own departure time arrived.
On Saturday, October 13, this year, a brilliant, non-malevolent “act of God” lit up the Huon Valley. Cameras captured the glorious yellows, scarlets and greens of an aurora australis; and many of us were able to marvel at the majesty of nature as it lit up the night sky with energy surges from over the southern horizon.
Not long previously, a weekend windstorm had caused a lofty dieback victim on my property to lose its footings and fall across nearby power lines, instantly cutting off the government-owned Aurora’s normally reliable electricity supply.
We all dug out the candles and, over the next 36 hours or so, kept fridge/freezer doors closed as much as possible and waited for power to flow again. Sometime in the evening of the following day, we were again enjoying all the home comforts that a steady alternating current provides.
Knowing just how limited are Aurora’s resources, and how many problems it had had to deal with as a result of that particularly tempestuous “act of God”, I emailed my thanks and congratulations on a fine performance. There we were — even though in only a lightly populated area — “back on” in less than a day-and-a-half. I was both grateful to, and impressed by, Aurora’s efficiency.
Imagine my surprise when, last week, a letter turned up accompanied by a “remittance advice” with an $80 cheque attached. “Aurora,” the letter said, “is serious about delivering a reliable and safe electricity supply to the Tasmanian community . . . enclosed a payment in recognition of any inconvenience you may have experienced.” It continued: “. . . we cannot provide 100% reliability all of the time . . . because of vehicle accidents or bad weather . . . We are working hard to lift our standards . . .”
It got me to thinking how pitiful it is that we have become such a nanny state that a utility as vulnerable as Aurora feels it necessary to compensate us for the brief moments each year that our lights go out and our fridges start to defrost.
Whatever has happened to us as a society? Have we all become so spoilt and precious that the likes of Aurora, even when events out of their control make it impossible for them to provide their services, feel obliged to compensate their customers?
Maybe it’s time for us to go back to leaving “acts of God” to be compensated in some way by that particular deity, at the same time thanking our lucky stars, in this privileged country of ours, that most of us have got it so good nearly all of the time.
It was pointless trying to send the cheque back to Aurora — there would be no way its accounting systems could cope with such a silly customer.
Happily, last week, by email, along came a request from Animals Australia (run by the heroic Lyn White of live-animal-export and caged-animal fame/notoriety) for financial support to get its ‘Pigs WILL fly!’ advertisement to air (http://www.animalsaustralia.org/appeal/make-it-possible/countdown.php). I defy any Tasmanian Times reader to watch this video and not have tears in their eyes before it ends.
Thanks Aurora, not only do you usually do a damned good job, you’ve played a role in shedding more light on the awfulness of the hideous treatment that is still being meted out to defenceless pigs and chooks by us pathetic, spoilt-brat, so-called civilised humans. — Bob Hawkins
