ADELAIDE IN & OUT...: The Regular Joe

So what has this to do with the Vicar? I was sitting last night watching Dibley in action and something dawn on me. Adelaide is almost like Dibley...it has its Alice Tinker and Hugo Horton - the innate ramblings of bored middle class men and women desperate for a decent orgasmic experience on King William rd and the rather illusive Owen, Jim, Frank and Letitia...she lives next door to my place. I have one of my very own - lovely lady! Yet no matter how much you try to tell yourself otherwise, it is a big country town with a very country attitude towards life.

Sitting around in their council chambers rambling over nothing seems to be the highlight in Adelaide though. Virtually ZIP happens unless there's a festival for the entire 3 weeks in a year and then the last minute mad rush begins to catch the tail-end of what's left over. Forget about WOMAD...those are for hippies, bloody hippies! So life in Adelaide is much like a choked up mini,"Vroom Choke Vroom Vroom Choke Choke - ah just bloody call the RAA will ya!", and like the mini, you can't just abandon it because it has been a good ride.

And then BEHOLD! Just around the corner, there are those rather odd people afflicted by this somewhat genetic disease called "I only watch" zip code Mitcham and Unley Park ala 90210 and out of the blue, twinkle in your eye... the supposed big kahuna or catch of the day, your drop dead gorgeous, blonde, blue-eyed I'm ready to be swept away anonymous Regular Joe (RJ for short).

Again, I felt rather misguided by the tabloid...RJ seems to be always in need of help, can't decide whether living at home is better than living alone, screws you around with mind-games, keep bloody secrets from you, metrosexuals/bi-sexuals/a-sexuals, loves their beer more, likes hanging out with guys more and is shit-scared of committing even to share the basic toilet- roll purchase. RJ is therefore someone that is just so full of shit that you will need to buy him paper so that you can flush the crap away at your expense! My RJ is therefore our very own dead gorgeous dumb blonde who just so happen to be "testis-esqued"...how depressing.

So Cable decided to begin bombarding me with images of scantily clad heterosexuals living on their own with their rather clueless girlfriends who wants them to shave their back, clean their house, invite non-drunk hooligan friends over for a 3-course meal, make sure they can serve caviar or some gourmet-inspired meals they know nothing about and make kickass cocktails for their loved ones. Which regular joe is this again? "This is sambucca...what the hell is sambucca Joe?..I don't know but the fag taught me how to do it".

Then out of the blue men running, more men running and more more running into shops, more shops - what the? Is this gay orgasmic euphemism in action? Straight men don't rush - they just "IS", you know, " I AM THEREFORE I'M IS...give me the TV controller and a cup of coffee bitch!". Yes, RJ can sometimes be a grandiose prick!

The 21st century man is therefore a bi-product of commercialised metrosexualism and the Regular Joe are those nerdy twinks that can't help themselves out of a hole even if they wanted to? I'm so confused.. more so, I'm turning lesbian!!

Maybe RJ is Bruce Willis..."I see dead people mate?...it's the weed! Good stuff eh?". Maybe he was only good for a ride? Or maybe he is dark, brooding and ruggedly handsome that he doesn't require a pedicure? He might even be a little round on the edges, has bad foot odour, doesn't pick his dirty clothes up, pick his nose in public, farts alot or even has crooked teeth?

Maybe the Regular Joe drives a Ford cortina rather than a Mercedes B190? Maybe, he's married or maybe he's single. Maybe he's going through a midlife crisis or just a crisis of identity? RJ my RJ ...where are you?

But what if the Regular Joe is in fact generous, loving, warm, considerate and of course will love you to pieces. What is this animal called the Regular Joe? What if it doesn't have ugly teeth nor a six-pack that you can grate garlic with or even that supposed all around personality to make him the life of any party. What if ...the regular joe is your next door neighbour? That would be just so unreal? What if Regular Joe is broken? What if he needs fixing, scared, lost and as confused as I am?