In answer to Mary Carde’s question (C8, Tuesday) about the value of her forgotten savings, Andrew Taubman of Queens Park has worked it out (at least one Col8er always will, thank you). “With $21.87 earning a 5 per cent interest rate for 71 years, the future value would be approximately $753.82, assuming the interest is compounded annually and there are no further deposits or withdrawals. So, nice, but hardly a fortune.”
A more cynical, or perhaps realistic, Wayne Duncombe of Lilyfield suggests instead that, “Mary Carde might be wary of claiming her small fortune. With ubiquitous bank fees and charges, the small fortune might be what the bank will want from her.”
Then, an answer to Mark Fuller’s question about retraining his cat away from expected treats (C8, Wednesday) comes from Helen Vaughan-Roberts of Noosaville (Qld): “Once that hypnotic stare has been perfected, there is little one can do. Many’s the time I have been sitting doing something important when I have felt the urge to rise and follow The Urge. The only question now is, do I turn right, toward the kitchen, for something tasty, or left, to the bedroom where the sun on the carpet facilitates tummy rubs?Truly ‘cats have servants’.”
There must eventually be an end to the recent Globite stories, but it isn’t in sight yet. David Reid of Glenhaven tells: “My sainted father-in-law, Jock (the clue is in the name), was a one-man precursor to Choice. When his daughter asked for a Globite case, he researched the topic forensically and presented her with a ‘better value’ Globemaster. Years later, she is still trying to live down carrying the ‘wrong’ brand, but the case is still going strong.”
Now, a naughty Rosita Sanders of Singleton confesses: “We lived in England in 1961. My mother could not understand why our Globite cases were so battered. We didn’t tell her my brothers and I went the long way to school so we could slide down the steep, icy or snow-covered path. It was a wonderful start to a school day.”
And maybe one last school punishment for the week. Bob Edgar of Moss Vale remembers: “In late primary school 60 years ago, the brother asked me to speak in a louder voice. When he still couldn’t hear me, he stood me outside the classroom and commanded (he was a CO in the school cadets) me to speak loudly enough for the class to hear. I froze. From that day, I never volunteered an answer or put my hand up to ask a question.”
Column8@smh.com.au
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