Oxygen, for Health and General Amusement

portable hyperbaric chambersAs much as I do not envy our live-in psychologist, at least I still visit him on occasion to make sure he has SOMETHING to do. Psychologists always make for interesting enough conversations partners. And when Percy is off in the office, the children are at school or with their tutors and the servants and workmen have been properly directed to their tasks, sometimes I still have some time left.

Not so for our physician, consigned as she is to the medical wing in the easternmost corner of the mansion. The Clanceys are famously hale and hearty from years of excellent breeding and plenty of money to start every day, so we never fall ill. We just needed that insurance, and all the other rich families have them.

Still, I remain fascinated in this trend of people having hyperbaric chambers for hire in Melbourne, and I suppose beyond. I keep saying to Percy that we need to get some oxygen therapy chambers installed, just for the experience and perhaps for the continued health of the live-in staff. Elliaphelia from two mansions over just had them installed after her husband got a cold- imagine, something so common!- and he was having a bit of difficulty both breathing and smoking at the same time. Percy has never been interested in cigars like many of those in his various Gentlemen’s Clubs, although I’m sure he could down them with no real ill effects if he so desired.

Still, oxygen therapy just sounds so exciting, and quite good for you. Maybe after I’ve been on the cardio machines I can step inside and catch my breath, or…I don’t know. Just the thought of Melbourne’s best portable hyperbaric chambers being part of our medical repertoire just appeals to me, on a completionist level. We have all the other technology, such as the MRI machine, incubation chamber, x-ray machine and the physician to operate them. Oxygen therapy might just complete the set.


A Lovely Picnic/Protest in the Grove

Melbourne tree removalWhat a tale I’ll have to tell my school chums! ‘My Very First Environmentalist Protest-Slash-Hunger Strike’. Such fun! I only did so for about an hour, but it was thrilling nonetheless.

Mummy and Daddy are always telling us that we should use our great wealth, intelligence, good breeding and general superiority to help people who were not born with such marvellous talents and gifts. Then I heard that Daddy was building a new golf course over near the grove, which just so happens to be where I thought I fairy community lived until last year when I grew out of such things. It would involve bringing in all of these swift, efficient tree felling services to bulldoze the place and leave it fresh and flat.

We’d JUST been learning about the environment in our World Studies class, and how trees being cut down is just really quite horrid, sometimes. I wasn’t sure if this was one of those times, but I thought I had a duty to protect this defenseless bunch of trees, given that they weren’t born with any money at all, and could not even be asked politely to move.

Daddy said that the tree lopping men would be coming around twelve o’clock on Saturday, so I enacted my plan. I took a picnic basket to the grove, along with several large pieces of paper from the art room alongside a number of paintbrushes. I didn’t want to appear rude, so while I ate my salmon and cucumber sandwiches I put up signs on the trees with polite-yet-firm messages such as ‘Is This Tree Removal Strictly Necessary?’ and ‘Perhaps We Should Discuss This Over Tea’ and also ‘Perhaps There Are Trees That Need Removing Even More Than These Ones Elsewhere. Have You Checked? Just Wondering.’

The I climbed the one nearest to the house and waited. And waited. And golly, it was a bit breezy up there. The tree was rather uncomfortable to sit on, and I realised that the log I mistook for a fairy city was really just mouldy and full of spiders. Also, I’d accidentally fluffed the ‘hunger strike’ part by bringing and partaking of my picnic basket.

Ah, well. Who was to stand in the way of professional tree removal services in Melbourne? I still had a most exciting time protesting and being terribly counter-establishment. Of course, I put my signs in the recycling as well, because that’s just basic responsibility.


Healthy Body and Healthy Mind

psychiatry MorningtonI really do feel sorry for our in-house psychiatrist. The Clancey family are famously sound in both body AND mind, so he doesn’t really get to do very much. Sometimes I like to think I’ll go along and fake some kind of steady, psychotic breakdown, just so he’s not twiddling his thumbs. Still, he gets the bi-annual checkup for each of us, so that’s a grand total of two hours of work per year. Heaven knows how he manages to entertain himself.

I suppose it all stems back in time to when our family was gaining business success. Of course, our family’s first mansion was in Mornington, where the Clanceys first came to Australia. Great Grandfather Harrington made liberal use of this new-fangled profession of psychiatry, practices in Mornington having been set up a few years prior. People turned up their noses and thought little of it, but Great Grandfather Harrington bought into the idea of good mental health, and it’s placed us in good standing over our competitors ever since.

It was he who established a routine for good mental health: half an hour per day of discussing and reflecting on the day’s events, and half an hour of some serious self-talk of a positive nature. Everyone thought it was old toffee, and his business competitors spent all of their time making money from morning to night. Well…when they reached their limit and burned our, Great Grandfather Harrington was taking the advice of his personal psychiatrist and working into the hours of the morning, brain unfettered by cares and worries.

Such a great shame he forgot to go to the doctor had a retire shortly before his death due to exhaustion, but his mind was doing just fine right up until the end. Now we have an in-house doctor as well…obviously. Regardless of our peerless mental health, we must still remember that humble calling of psychology around Mornington. If only we could buy out the entire business. Alas, medicine retains certain privileges that place them above such things, and it’s probably for the best.

-Percival Clancey VI

Glaziers, but Also…Beast Battles

residential glazingI am continually at war with myself. On the one hand, I revel in the thrills of business and professionalism. On the other, I simply wish to watch television all day, stay in bed for extremely long periods of time and go out to visit friends, where we may trade ‘Sidockebeast’ cards. That’s short for ‘Side Pocket Beasts’, a Japanese trend that I find intriguing.

It does irritate me to no end, being subject to my own instincts. For example, yesterday Father allowed me to sit in on a group meeting involving a meeting of investors. Nothing especially secretive, but I was expected to take notes on the portion of the meeting involving the ownership of glazier companies within Melbourne who do glass balustrading. To my shame, I became distracted halfway through over a debate within my mind as to whether Shell-Blaster could defeat Titan if the latter was submerged within its natural saltwater habitat. See, Shell-Blaster is an ordinary pocket beast, but it gets a fairly hefty advantage from its environment, and combined with the fact that its shell is immune to divine damage might make up for the fact that Titan is a seventh-tier legendary.

GAH, you see? Why is my child brain so obsessed with childish things? It makes no sense! I need to focus on glaziers, and replacement windows. My notes should have been full of references to Melbourne’s window repair and related industries, and yet they were taken up with silly diagrams about beast attributes and EV training methods.

Perhaps business is not meant for me…is what I would say, were I not a Clancey and it was in my blood. I shall do my own research on residential glazing and such things, and in my own time as well. Meanwhile…it’s time for these childish things to get out of my head, one way or another. Growing up just takes such a long time.

-Archibald Clancey IV

We’ll Need a New Chandelier (and footman)

designer lighting MelbourneOh dear, one of the attendants has quit in an overly dramatic fashion again. Poor fellow said something about everything being too much, jumped off the top banister, swung off the chandelier and very much tried to- and I can only be partially sure- jump through the circular piece of stained glass that adorns the place over our front entrance. Instead, the chandelier snapped and took him down with it.

To take a long tale and compress it down to the essentials, we’re in need of some new lighting. Such a pain how the entire entrance hall is now cordoned off until the floor is fixed and all the crystals are gathered.

Perhaps I’ll leave the replacement process to Cecelia. She knows designer lighting companies in Melbourne quite well from all those magazines, and also her friendship with that Ingrid Chantelia woman. I’m vaguely aware that she owns and produces some sort of home design program that people seem to quite like. Not really my thing, both that sort of television and the issue of Miss Chantelias being new money, but Cecelia doesn’t seem to mind.

Oh, and I think I own some company somewhere that deals in LED lighting in some capacity. I try to keep up with all of my acquisitions, but they’ve grown so numerous, and I rely far too much on electronic means. I’ll have a look through my records and see if we can’t fix our current problem using some business connections. That method hasn’t failed me yet; that much is at least certain. Is Melbourne’s commercial LED lighting sector something to consider purchasing? A question for later. In the meantime, we need our entrance hall cleaned up as soon as possible. And I’ll have to call the agency, since it’s become abundantly clear that we need a new footman. One made of sterner stuff this time!

-Percival Clancey IV

We Shall Soon Have a Dry Needler in the House

I’ve always thought that we need MORE live-in servants. For whatever reason, it doesn’t seem to be a popular option with many of our friends, even if they started doing thing we way we did. So many of them, letting their servants go HOME at the end of the day. I wouldn’t dream of such a thing, if I can allow it; not for the most essential servants. Oh, perhaps I can tolerate the gardener going back to his family, but the cook? The maid who starts the fires? They simply must be here, at all times. I can’t abide the thought of ringing the bell in my room and receiving no answer. And without Dr Smith, our resident medical professional, how would I have peace of mind?

He’s a pillar of Whitehall Chapel, Smithe. Oh, and we’re sending him off to a dry needling course in New Zealand quite soon, which I’m VERY excited about. Last time Anastasia came around for tea and chats, she mentioned this dry needling thing which I honestly hadn’t heard of at all. A little odd, because when it comes to cutting-edge ways to relax the body and mind, I’m usually quite up to date. Anyway, she said it was big news and that she’d already sent HER resident doctor along on a course so he could learn dry needling. I already made sure Smithe was up to date on hyperbaric medicine, as well as that whole ‘cupping’ affair, although that turned out to just be a massive waste of time. Also, it left you very unsightly.

In any case, I can’t wait for him to return and share his knowledge with the rest of us. I do so like dabbling in new things, even if they’re quite beyond my understanding. Ooh, perhaps I can look in on this dry needling course and learn a thing or two. Things have been rather quiet round the house since Percy agreed to let the in-house brass band go home for the weekend. I’d looked forward to a concert, but I suppose I could fill my time elsewhere.


I Must Impart My Knowledge

large conference centreFather has gone to a conference, presumably one where he teaches people less intelligent than he how to conduct proper business. I’m not too surprised, obviously. There’s much to learn from someone like Father, to the point where it’s a wonder anyone else has any business sense at all. I hope to one day be just like him.

I told Mother I should very much like to accompany Father on his business endeavor, but she said that Victoria’s conference centres were places for adults, where things would be discussed far above my ken. A rather silly notion, in my opinion. Though I am but young, I am my fathers son. Business is in my blood.

That’s why I’ve decided to host my own conference in Lorne, with a syllabus of my choosing.  I’ve chosen Lorne because it has one of the best conference centres in the state and also because I enjoy walking along the many beaches. 

It will be aimed at boys my age who may not have had the privileged upbringing of myself, where they will learn (from me) the basics of economics. Even though my conference with be aimed at youth, I will not hesitate to…how shall I say…drop the knowledge bombs.

For example it would appear that purchasing large amounts of property is actually not entirely a wise business decision without potential buyers, since you have to spend a lot of money on cleaning.

Also, while the hostile takeover of an entire chain of luxury hotels might SEEM prudent, if you fire all the staff and don’t hire any more, it’s actually not a good business decision.

I think this conference is really going to take off, as they say. Now I need to look into venue hire, and I’ll more or less be done. I have my heart set on Lorne. Father has some property in the area that I haven’t visited since I was a child. 

-Archibald Kane III

A Long-Overdue Lighting Update

commercial LEDI keep saying that we need a revamp of the décor in the entrance hall. It’s the first thing people see when they enter the house, and yet I until now I haven’t been able to bring myself to make any significant changes. I suppose I have a great deal of respect for all the generations of Clanceys who’ve come before, thus hindering me from updating the era. But then…it’s no longer 1770. There comes a time when you have to make a change.

The chandelier needs to go, certainly, and it needs replacing with a chandelier more fitting of today’s world. Now that I think about it, it’s rather embarrassing how many business contacts have walked through that door and been greeted by a chandelier 200 years out of its time. Not that all the old needs to be tossed out, but I make my living at the cutting edge of business, the forefront of industry. That includes all types of designer lighting in Melbourne, so what does it say when dangling from the ceiling is a relic of a bygone era?

I shall look into it. Obviously, if we’re swapping out the designer lighting, the rest of the room needs updating as well. I can’t believe I’ve been so stubborn and foolish as to keep the oaken balustrades for this long; even a dolt would recognise that marble is the flavour of our current time. Marble walls, marble floors, marble ceilings, marble busts of deceased family members…Jerome Taylor-Pennyspent even has marble umbrella holders and hat-stands in his entrance hall. Too much of a good thing, I say, but perhaps I’ll discuss it with my experts.

I must make time, for what is a Clancey if he does not look after his own mansion? The recent rise of the commercial LED lighting industry in Melbourne is a sign of change, both in business and personal life. I must look into their collection of chandeliers, pronto.

-Percival Clancey IVV

Bureaucracy Over Air Conditioning in Melbourne

air conditioning serviceBureaucrats have not been keeping their cool over summer, with government offices reporting an average of three forms needing to be filled in before cooling may be switched on.

Due to poor productivity caused by lack of  air conditioning, Melbourne CBD offices alone is projected to have lost two million dollars collectively.

The office winning the dubious title of most forms to fill out requires some twelve forms before the air conditioner may be switched on.

An anonymous employee of the comments that he is not surprised that so many forms are involved.

“They just let us sweat, no matter if it is forty degrees plus they still will not switch on the air con because they want us to be more environmentally friendly,” he said.

“Never mind the trees that got cut down for their precious forms. One of my former colleagues once couldn’t take it anymore and switched on the power to their air conditioner- she didn’t even make it to the ‘on’ button before she was fired.”

Of nearly four hundred offices surveyed across the state, less than twenty do not require any forms to be filled out before air conditioning is engaged.

The survey was conducted by the Melbourne Centre for Office Research (CCOR). The CCOR itself requires eight forms to be filled before air conditioning may be approved.

Despite rarely using an air conditioning service, Melbourne offices spend an average of two thousand dollars per year on air conditioning maintenance and running costs. This number is likely inflated by one office spending upwards of five hundred thousand dollars per year on air conditioning costs.

“We expect that the air conditioning expenditure of the business in question is actually allocated to other costs although this has not been confirmed,” said CCOR chief investigator Dr Albert Kent.

“When this business is excluded from the survey, the average air conditioning expenditure is less than one thousand dollars.”

Dr Kent says that a follow-up survey on office procedures for heating will be conducted in Winter.

The Talk of the Aluminium Folk

gas bottle holdersThere are workmen at the house today. Mummy said I shouldn’t talk to them, but I’m sitting here at the window watching and I can’t fathom why. They see like really people, just like us. Mummy also said they speak a strange commoner language, but apart from stronger accents, a heavier use of slang and some ghastly profanity, that is also not true. Perhaps as you grow to be an adult, you forget how to speak to people who are different to you? That’s the impression I am getting.

I am currently supposed to be working on my very first socialist manifesto, but I’m finding that I enjoy listening to the conversation outside the window far more. It just makes for such interesting listening, like I’ve discovered a portal to another world and everything I heard is something brand new and exciting. Apparently Justin was late that morning and forget the key to his toolbox, and he was being lightly berated by his colleagues for his lack of skill operating the toolbox central locking. Father has talked about central locking before, but only when mentioning it to Yusef, our chauffeur. I suppose tools must be expensive, if they must be locked up inside such a secure box.

The conversation then turned to models of ‘utes’. I assume this is some kind of automobile, perhaps those strange cars these people drive with the space around the back for placing all kinds of items. I’ve seen pictures of these vehicles with dogs riding in the rear compartment, and I thus assumed that was what they were for. None of these people have brought a dog with them, though their ‘utes’ are adorned with many mysterious boxes. The one called Greg mentioned gas bottle holders and under tray drawers. This means nothing much to me, so I can only neglect my manifesto and continue to listen so that I can decipher the mystery of the boxes. I mean…they are probably full of tools. That seems logical. But this is a strange new world I am glimpsing. Anything could happen.