I called into Pacific Pawn Brokers at Pacific Paradise.
There was one man at the counter and one man behind it.

“Well if it isn’t Agro,” said the customer, quickly thrusting his hand forward to greet me.

Big Dave was serving that day and was quick to ask: What are you looking to buy, Jamie?”

I assured him that I was just looking around with nothing in particular in mind.

“Well then, perhaps I can sell you something,” he said, adding that touch of Jumanji mysticism.

“How about a copy of that record you released in 1976, Jamie Come Home?”
“You’re kidding,” I asked in absolute amazement.
“No I’m not kidding,” he said gruffly. “I’m the only person in Queensland who actually bought a copy back then.”

Jackson’s camping trip
Jackson, 11, was over the moon when his friend Liam invited him to go motorbike riding and camping for three days straight with his dad and a couple of other fathers from school.

I was a little concerned about his safety on his Yamaha, but I needn’t have worried. The dads gave him the best weekend of his life!

However, I could hardly control myself when Jackson told me that he’d learned a new game that my fellow dads had taught him. He proudly explained that you put some toilet paper between your butt cheeks, someone sets it on fire and then you run as fast as you can off into the bush!

Thank you, Coolum police
My car was broken into last week by what I assumed was teenagers who sometimes stroll aimlessly late at night through the streets of Coolum.

They forced a window at the back, climbed in and stole a leather jacket and some aftershave. It wasn’t really what they took, it was just that I and the rest of the Sunshine Coast are sick to death of it.

There is good news for the good guys though. On Saturday night, Sergeant Troy and Sergeant Ben arrived with my jacket for identification, and had the suspects waiting back at the station.

They were great role models for my young ones, who had obviously lived through the theft and the subsequent recovery and apprehension. These policemen were an absolute credit to the force.

Sorry about that
It's true, I have lived a privileged life for the last few years, given the success of Agro and then B105.

So forgive me a little as I learn not to be so wasteful. In the old days when my shoes wore out, I’d simply get someone to go out and pick me up another pair of black RM Williams boots size nine-and-a-half.

Well those days have well and truly gone. The RM’s I was wearing were near death and so I took them to Mr Minute at Sunshine Plaza to be ... er um … repaired, there I said it! I don’t know what I was expecting – perhaps a dozen or so Oompah Loompahs to suddenly rush out grab my shoes and start repairing them in 60 seconds.

“We have to send them for stitching,” said the guy behind the counter.
“I’ll call you when they’re ready.”

So I went on the radio and joked that “Mr Minute” should perhaps be called “Mr Week”. Not two days later I get a message on my phone that said, “Hi! This is Matt from Mr Week. I repeat Mr Week?

“Your shoes are ready, Jamie!”

Sorry guys, your service was very quick and professional. Forgive me “Mr Minute”, I was pretty short on radio humour that day!

Put ’em in pink
I hope the Sunshine Coast police are as quick as they were with my stolen leather jacket to find the culprits who’ve graffitied ALL the new and recently painted work on the Sunshine Motorway. It makes me sick to think of how much visual damage can be caused by mindless morons and a can of spray paint in one night.

I know the laws regarding this kind of crime have been beefed up recently, but what about when we catch them, we dress them in a hot pink tutus and get them to pull beers for the bikies and truckers at the Highway Hotel Rocklea.