Done by the din

(Sydney Morning Herald)

The first Tuesday in November is a cliche for all Australians; the running of a horse race that we all know from our days in nappies 'stops the nation'. So it proved again from the evidence of my surroundings, the Admissions section of the hospital where I volunteer. Approaching the scheduled race time (3pm) Admissions was packed - with staff who had dropped tools, so to speak, to view the race from the television thoughtfully supplied to entertain patients whilst they wait to be attended. Someone with a sense of humour scheduled one patient's admission for 3pm and at 2.59pm, right on cue, that patient arrived to a sight that must have looked to him more like the grandstand at Randwick than a dignified entrance to a house of cures.

The race started six minutes late by my watch and the patient joined in the raucous audience cheering on the runners. Yes, that race had a thrilling finish but it couldn't end quickly enough for me. My little section of the hospital had twisted my arm to run a sweep which turned into five sweeps and I was well and truly over the whole thing before the starter had pushed his button. There is nothing that drains any enjoyment from this event more than actually having to do any work related to it. I had a headache, my feet were tired and there wasn't a question about sweeps that anyone could think of that I wasn't asked a dozen times or more.

Our compatriots south of the border who host this race every year sensibly take a holiday enabling them to ignore the whole thing if they wish. On our side of the border, without the benefit of a holiday, we seem compelled to celebrate every second of the day in the most manic way. And we will do so again in twelve months time.

Oh, I almost forgot. The race was won by a horse (Dunaden).