gullybogan

Dear Reader,

We arrived at Caulfield campus on the shuttle from Clayton and went straight to the architecture centre in F building.

The building was very nice, and smelt of new carpet.

The architecture centre was full of cardboard structures and men in blazers with rectangular-framed glasses talking to nervous young hopefuls. The talking men all looked like they were fresh off a flight from Helsinki.

Sybylla and me stood and eavesdropped on a conversation one of the Helsinki men was having with a pert young girl with ponytails and braces.

«…the thing with the Melbourne Model is that you spend one year on a general course of studies, and then you specialise. Here at Monash, you go straight into the course, and you’re learning architecture straight away. Now, the name ‘Monash’ has a great deal of prestige, and, really, the only question you have to ask yourself, choosing between Melbourne and Monash is: where would i enjoy studying more? Where is it more pleasant to study…»

I mentally noted that that was two questions, and considered how utterly pleasant the surroundings were there at Monash Caulfield (the Monash you have when you’re not having a Monash Clayton).

There were no pamphlets, and we’d just missed a stunning (by all accounts) PowerPoint slideshow on architecture at Monash, which was clearly a pity, since the whole room was still buzzing about it.

Sybylla carefully hid the Info Tech-coloured phone sock lanyard down the front of her top, and dragged me up to talk to a vacant Helsinki man.

«So,» she said to Helsinki man. «Architecture.»

Like an automaton, he began talking about how great it was to be an architect, and how pleasant it was to study at Caulfield campus, and how the market for architects was pretty much determined by the boom in the economy, which was phenomenal at the moment…

«But,» i interrupted, «when the global recession hits in a few months, that’ll be a problem?»

He laughed. «Well, we’d all have problems then, wouldn’t we…»

«Yes, but maybe she should be putting her time into learning how to make soup. You know, a profession that will be useful in the event of a global recession.»

«Well, it will take five years for her to complete the course, and, by then, i think the recession – if there even is one – will be over, and your daughter will be able to get a job in the boom times that follow the recession…»

«Yes, dad. Your daughter will be able to get a job no worries. Did you hear that? Dad?»

«I think,» i said as pleasantly as i could, «war generally follows bust in the boom-bust-war cycle, but… well, i guess she can get a job designing eco-friendly bomb shelters or something.»

«So hey,» Sybylla piped up, interrupting the awkward pause formed by Helsinki man trying to think what to say without being rude (something i didn’t have to worry about). «What skills do i need to do this? It’s art, right? I need some mad art skills?»

«Well, a great number of our students have very good skills at using things like 3D modelling software. We were very surprised by that…»

«You mean,» i asked, «that that hasn’t happened before? Your incoming students being good at computers?»

«Well, the course only started this year, so we haven’t had any students before last semester.»

Crickets.

I thanked him very much, and we went to look at the nice cardboard models.

«Maybe you should look at somewhere that’s been going for more than six months at this,» i suggested.

«Lighten up, dad. Us kids of today, we’re all about new and modern and wizz and bang. Just relax, old man. History is for silverfish.»

Caulfield is more the campus for black collar workers, so everywhere you looked, ppl were being creative. On the way out, we went past the creative arm of Info Tech, with their modern-as-tomorrow CD-ROM technology, and their Web Design.

Sybylla didn’t even glance out the corner of her eye.

We rode the shuttle bus back to the campus where my hatchback was waiting, and we went home. We stopped at Safeway on the way, and i bought some crumpets and some sultanas, some bread for lunches, some soy drink, and a box of frozen pastry things for tea. But that’s probably too much detail, hey.

The girl on the till admired Sybylla’s phone sock.

«Yeah, it’s pretty good. You need to have an ENTER of 93.6 to get this phone sock.»

Right now, it’s Sunday evening, and Princess and Sybylla are watching Rove. I’m not sure if Syb’s going home tonight. She’s borrowed a pair of Princess’s pyjama bottoms and asked me to get the sleeping bag down again, so it’s not looking good for me being able to walk to the toilet naked in the morning.

You can see why i’ve had to include Sybylla in my blogging world, can’t you.

Otherwise, today’s post would have read, “I stopped at Safeway on the way home, and i bought some crumpets and some sultanas, some bread for lunches, some soy drink, and a box of frozen pastry things for tea.”

Yours,
Gullybogan