With one point left on my licence, believe me, as I approached the Maroochy bridge I was definitely doing the speed limit.

I couldn’t help but notice just how impatient the rev head in the black utility behind me was getting.

He seemed to be right on my back bumper bar.

All of a sudden he swung his trendy black beast of a car out and overtook me, racing off into the distance then stopping and doing a U-turn to come back the other way.

“Who is this jerk,” I thought.

As he passed me on his return, on came the flashing lights and he pulled over the poor unsuspecting bugger in front of him.

Talk about Starsky and Hutch!

My kid’s cringe
TEN-YEAR-OLD Jackson came sprinting into the bedroom and landed right between Kym and me – there is always plenty of space there.

“Do you love me, Mum?” he asked.

I was a little miffed.

“We both love you!” I said, as if to reassure him that I was truly a big part of his very being.

I continued: “In fact, Mum and I loved each other to make you!”

His face screwed up in disbelief and he barked: “You mean you and Mum did it….like the pigeons? EEEEEEWWWWW!”

Making most of a miserable day

It was a rainy, cold and miserable last Sunday when I dropped our three younger ones at the Caloundra Rollerdome for a two-hour skate.

There’s not much to do for a parent in that amount of time but wait. It’s too short a period of time. No point going home – by the time you got there you’d have to come straight back again.

So I decided to see what was open in Bulcock Street.

I found Angus and Robertson Bookshop and browsed for nearly an hour.
It’s really well set out and Graeme behind the counter is a mine of friendly information.

When I finished there, I headed through the rain and across the road to Buongusto Cafe, where Kip, the new owner, suggested a steaming hot bowl of homemade pea and ham soup.

By the time I picked the kids up, I was ready to curl up in front of the fire with the dog.

On the back foot, again
In last week’s column, I told you the story of Kym rushing around cleaning the house because the “cleaner” was coming ... go figure!

When I got home the other day, Kathy, the hired help, put down her mop and said quite indignantly: “I read your column. Please print a retraction.

“I’m not a cleaner, thank you very much, I’m a housekeeper!”

Pin-up for service industry
We've all seen them – corkheads who change from one lane to another quicker than Paris Hilton swaps cells.

They tailgate, cut you off and gesture quizzically when you don’t turn as quickly as they’d like.

But the impatient moron tooting and mouthing obscenities behind me in the traffic is a little different to most – he ended up serving me at the servo I was turning into.

He actually worked there!

"Working-class man
I got a call from an old friend the other day – John Kirby, the down-to-earth man who employed me for most of my radio career at B105.

I hadn’t seen him since my sacking.

He wanted to catch up for drinks.

Yet another Victorian enjoying the lifestyle of the Sunshine Coast.

Realising the potential, I met him for a beer in Hastings Street – that’s about as upmarket as I could think of for a man whose companies own Movie World, Sea World and the Austereo and MMM Networks.
As I put an ice-cold VB Gold down in front of him, he asked:

“What have you been up to Jamie?”

I answered: “I’ve been doing Agro shows at the Sunnybank Hills Shopping Centre, Johno, what about you?”

He replied so matter of factly that I nearly swallowed the bottle I was drinking from.

“Oh, I’ve just bought the Noosa Five Cinemas, Jamie”.
Worst-case scenario, I could end up with a job as an usherette.