Clashing Automotive Inspection Styles!

auto mechanicOH. MY. TYRE REPAIRS.

As in, ‘oh my, tire repairs! We need them!’

We actually do, because I just gave them a few kicks when I took the kids to school this morning and they seemed really floppy. I should’ve called today, but I just couldn’t concentrate. The impending news of Week of Our Lives perhaps being cancelled and perhaps being renewed has me on edge, as with many people all around the city, and there they are just still soldiering on and making episodes, knowing that each one may be their last.

Speaking or tire repairs, there’s been quite the automotive tizzy after Jacque came to Realsville and started his own auto-repairs shop, except he does things in an exotic French way and everyone is enamoured. Ian learned everything he knows from a place inĀ Ringwood that does RACV inspections, and it was their specialty. In fact, we got a flashback to when he was a child, and learning the ways of auto inspections. It involved waking up at 5am every day, pushing a tractor tire up a mountain, studying for six hours to learn every single piece of every single car off by heart and then four hours of intense mechanical practice.

Come to think of it, I should book our tire servicing in Ringwood. If they even work half as hard in real life, then they should be perfect to fix our automotive woes.

Anyway, Ian is offended that everyone is running away from his business to go and get car servicing from Jacque, who by all accounts is snobbish and superior, and his car servicing isn’t really that good, and he probably didn’t even learn from a decentĀ auto mechanic close to Ringwood but instead some place in France. But people just love things that are new and exotic.

Come to think of it, this is surprisingly thoughtful for an episode of Week of Our Lives, which is usually a lot more fast-paced and dynamic. Hmm…


Na-na-na-na-na-na, Bathman

bathroom designerGood grief…I was just flicking through the channels and stumbled across the Golden Oldies on channel 62. They were playing that old, campy ‘Bathman and Bobbin’ series from the 1960s, and I seriously couldn’t believe that anyone used to watch this.

Nowadays, Bathman is a serious, brooding figure who sneaks into people’s houses to give them bathroom remodels, but never stays to be thanked and always left a calling card inside the bath. Usually it was a rubber duckie. A dark, edgy rubber duckie, to remind people that even though their new bathroom is wonderful, life will always be sheer pain.

But the sixties version? Hoo boy, none of that. He still does bathroom remodelling, but people actually CALL him with a silly bath signal in the sky. Some villain would invade a public bathroom, carve graffiti into the walls, mess up the sinks and steal the toilet roll covers, and the stereotypical Scottish chief would call Bathman on the signal. Bathman and Bobbin (that’s his sidekick that dresses up like a rubber duck) would dash to the scene in a car that’s clearly just a regular car, painted white with a few taps sticking out of random places, and they’d get caught by the evil villain. They’d escape the trap, do the bathroom renovations in the nick of time, and the day would be saved.

I guess I just don’t like it because it portrays Bathman as just another campy superhero. He’s not supposed to be a normal do-gooder in ill-fitting spandex. He’s the night…he’s the one who strikes from the shadows with premium bathroom designer grace and poise, before going back to his Bathcave (basically, a really big and nice bathroom) to mourn the fact that he’s not rich because his parents are way too healthy to die and give him an inheritance, and they refuse to let him have any more pocket money than non-rich kids.