Their grand cars, many shiny and new lined both sides of the street ~ some were parked in the immense driveway at the front of the flood-lit mansion next door. They arrived in their finery ~ Versace clutch and other designer apparel ~ their wealth & prestige obvious. High pitched sounds of laughter and talking filled the air, flowed from the main house and into the four large white, architecturally designed marquees pitched in the massive backyard, where they were no doubt feasting on sumptuous finger food and selected fine wines. I fell asleep listening to the sounds of Melbourne's elite who partied on last night until the wee hours of the morning. But what was in my mind apart from the fact that I'd turned off the television after beginning to watch The Devil Wears Prada, was images of those at the other end of the social strata - the early evening news report about the thousands of Melbourne's homeless who live in poverty and the Occupy Melbourne, anti-capitalist demonstrators who were preparing their meal on make-shift cookers and bedding down for the night in camping tents in Melbourne's CBD! The Mayor of Melbourne concerned about clearing OM tent city away before next Wednesday, when that other bastion of wealth and prestige, HRH will be gracing our streets. One spectacle of the people replaced by one that is condoned - the flag waving, the courtesy and bows, the people who are permitted to be seen and heard.
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