The PR Blog

There was a time when our currency from every country reflected the pride in our national history. The same with stamps. It was pictorial record of who we were. It was something we saw every time we opened our wallet or sent a letter. Now? No letters and no cash if the government has their way.

How many of us look at our currency? These days, not so much. Digital currency is all the rage. But there was a time when a great woman was on the Australian $5 note.  There are remarkable individuals whose tireless efforts leave a mark on society. Caroline Chisholm was one such visionary who dedicated her life to championing the underdog.

She is off the currency now, and has been replaced by an image of parliament in Canberra. So let us look at who has done more for helping the Aussie Battler: Caroline Chisholm or Parliament?

As I said, these days, how long has it been since you had a $5 note in your wallet?  But next time, you look in your  wallet, look at the images on your money. And wonder why they were honoured. 

Apparently, today, Canberra is more worthy of honour than Caroline Chisholm. 

So who was she? 

“We came here today to raise our voice against something that is beyond politics” 

Yes, the Serbs are angry. They value food for their families over money for mining companies.

Nationwide protests are underway in Serbia following the government's decision to revive Rio Tinto’s controversial lithium mining project in the Jadar river valley.

In the last 20 days there have been protests against Rio Tinto and mining in 30 cities in Serbia. Clearly, the Serbs are not fans of Rio Tinto or mining one of the most productive agricultural areas in the country.The western Jadar river valley, one of Serbia’s main agricultural hubs is responsible for around 20% of total agricultural production in Serbia. 

Unfortunately it also has rich deposits of lithium. Jadar is estimated to contain 10% of the world’s reserves of lithium, the primary raw material for the production of the batteries that power electric vehicles.

On 6 and 9 August 1945, the United States detonated two atomic bombs over the Japanese cities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. The bombings killed between 150,000 and 246,000 people, most of whom were civilians, and remain the only use of nuclear weapons in an armed conflict.

As 15^th August ( the surrender by Japan in WW II ) approaches one can anticipate the usual diatribes from the unwashed and soy-latte sets lecturing us on how bad we were in 1945 to drop the atomic bombs on Japan. None of these know-alls were even alive in 1945 so whatever they have to say comes from their collective backsides.

Britain, Germany and the USA were all working to become the first to master nuclear fission. Thankfully it was America who won.

The American effort began in 1939 when Albert Einstein wrote a letter to President Roosevelt setting out the possibilities and predicted consequences of unleashing nuclear power. Einstein, a German born Jew, left Germany to study in Zurich and renounced his citizenship in 1896 to avoid compulsory military service.

Today, throughout the world, people are facing homelessness. Too many refugees, too many migrants and nowhere near enough houses for everyone.

Having a home is so important. It is fundamental to our sense of self and sense of belonging. It took me back to a time, about 35 or 40 years ago when I was starting out in real estate sales. 

The first thing was being given the listing of the unsellable house. It is something that happens when you are new on the job: you are given a listing that no one else wants.

My unsellable house was a cracker. It had lime green shag pile carpet; a bright orange kitchen and covered in wallpaper with bold patterns of mission brown and orange. The toilets were red. Outside, there was a huge collection of garden gnomes. And I mean huge. 

It had been on the market for years and as soon as people saw the large collection of garden gnomes, they would not venture inside. The few that did waded through the shag pile green carpet into the kitchen, shook their heads and said " Move on. " 

When I was a kid, I used to go to the movies on a Saturday morning. Or, as my late Uncle ( Mum's brother )  used to call it, The Flicks. Others called it “ The Pictures “ or “ The cinema” … no matter, we went to see a movie and it cost a shilling. In fact, I had friends who called  it the Flea House, though I never really understood why. 

We would all sit down in our seats, the lights would dim and a movie of a Lady on a horse would appear.  We would stand up for the Lady on the horse and sing about saving the Queen. Only after we had sung about how wonderful she was and how important it was that we love our country, only then, could we sit down again and wait for the lady with the ice creams to come around.

It was magical. The crowded theatre; the Lady on the horse, the lady with the ice creams and the lady with the torch that led latecomers to their seats.