With Christmas just around the corner, editor Lyndon Keane has decided to abandon his selfish quest for a boat under the tree and has instead thrown a few Cape York wishes at the big guy in red. Photo: Cape York Weekly.
Dear Santa
It’s me again. Did you get the letter I sent you last year? I figure it must have gotten lost in the mail, because I didn’t get a reply from you, and I’m still waiting for that new boat to materialise in the driveway. I’m sure you didn’t see what I asked for and it was all just a horrible misunderstanding, because only a sociopath would deem socks and T-shirts suitable recompense for a year spent keeping out of trouble and having no fun to ensure I stayed on your nice list. What a rort.
Anyway, I thought I’d try a new approach for 2024 and offer up some Christmas wishes for our part of the world up here on Cape York. Well, I guess it’s not really “up here” compared to your place at the North Pole, but you know what I mean.
I feel like making wishes for up here is a bit like a hot, humid rewrite of A Christmas Carol, because there are definitely glimpses of Christmas Past, Present and Yet to Come when we talk about making the northernmost part of the state a political priority, and what’s been done – or, more frequently, not done – to help develop the social and economic sustainability of the communities we love so much.
Christmas Past on the Cape is much like the letters I write to you every December – penned with an innocence and good intentions, only to be then either completely ignored or have someone tell me year after year they know what’s best for me, and that a new school backpack is a much cooler present than the Lego pirate ship I’d asked for.
What’s the point in asking me to write to you specifying what I’d like for Christmas, only for you to get me something else? Like a road that remains unsealed, despite a decade or more of begging for it to be under the tree on 25 December. You didn’t even have to wrap it or put a bow on it. The road itself would have been more than enough. Here’s some free advice to avoid perpetuating the festive season disappointment, Santa: don’t let politicians do your Christmas shopping
If we ponder Christmas Present, it’s anything but. We’ve got crippling cost of living pressures due to successive governments who don’t think things like fuel, clothing and everyday household items are essential to life on Cape York. We’ve got elected leaders who I doubt could even point to our backyard on a map, yet seem to have their hearts set on pulling the puppet strings on our futures from thousands of kilometres away. It’s like getting a completely unsuitable present from mimosa-sozzled Aunty June and immediately wondering if you can return it for something that’s not completely shit. The only problem with Cape York’s Christmas Present is that store credit isn’t available until the next election.
We’ve got to be hopeful about our Christmas Yet to Come, because I believe it’s one with the potential to be filled with incredible growth and prosperity, but only if our stockings are stuffed with what we really want, and the political elves you’ve got side hustling on the North Pole payroll deliver what our communities actually need. And that doesn’t include jocks, cheap aftershave that could strip paint, or hollow political platitudes.
I hope that all makes sense, Santa. I think I’ve got my A Christmas Carol storyline arse about face, but I blame the eggnog. You get the gist, I’m sure. Aren’t you meant to be all-seeing and all-knowing? If not, what’s the bloody point of keeping those famed naughty and nice lists? I bet plenty of politicians have found themselves on the latter, but they always seem to get what they want, whether they deserve it or not. What’s that all about?
Until next year
Lyndon
PS: So, where are we at with that boat request? I bought one of those captain’s hats and everything.
