Anson Cameron is a columnist for Spectrum in The Age and the author of several books, including Boyhoodlum and Neil Balme: A Tale of Two Men.
If I was inclined to, I could walk around the house nude, without even a sock to mar my eruption of atavism. But I’m not inclined to.
Public outbursts have, happily, become an archaic, almost obsolete, tool of social leverage.
Wifely devotion has its limits. So does our ability to digest onions.
We prepare speeches for weddings, birthdays and funerals but are strangely silent as our loved ones slip away.
The woman from United Airlines was not as attentive as he would have liked. Later, he realised why.
Having the flu during summer festivities is like watching the world through death’s door.
Every time I meet Paul on the beach, he warns me of a new coming travail that will doom the world. Happily, he is never right.
FIFA boss Gianni Infantino has shown me the way.
The doom bell was ringing, and Joni was on her own.
When silver-haired ladies threaten arson, it’s time for a bureaucratic rethink.