Life: Melissa Who?
Last week, Australia’s Own™ Melissa George put on her crankypants in public when someone dared to ask about her role in ‘Home and Away’ some twenty years ago. I’m not exactly sure what that role is because I haven’t watched ‘Home and Away’ since 1993 when that boat capsized due to Bobby Simpson’s lopsided hairdo and she got herself all deaded. For the record, I actually took a photo of the TV at the moment Bobby Simpson got deaded because I hated her that much, her having a bit too much sass in her attitude and never really deserving the love of Alex Papps, whatever his character was called. Sadly, however, I didn’t get a photo of her reappearance as a ghost a few years later. Yes, a ghost. Missed opportunities… Anyway the point is that I have no idea who ‘Angel’ is when she’s at home (or away, for that matter) and, come to think of it, I’m not sure I really know who Melissa George is either.
Luckily the Sydney Morning Herald article has filled me in somewhat. Apparently, she’s someone who likes “having a croissant and a little espresso in Paris” or walking her “French bulldog in New York City”. Apart from sounding a bit like an extract from Mem Fox’s classic ‘Possum Magic’ – you know, something Grandma Poss and Hush might have done shortly after eating Vegemite sandwiches in Darwin and pavlova in Perth – her observations are factually incorrect. For one thing, wasn’t the ‘French Bulldog’ re-branded as the ‘Freedom Bulldog’ in 2003? For another thing, surely one orders ‘un express’ in Paris and not “an espresso” in Paris and regardless of what they are called, they are small enough without ordering a “little” one. Is she asking them to serve her coffee in a thimble? Melissa might try getting a Starbucks super-sized-extra-large-grande into her to lift her mood. Just sayin’.
Anyhoo, pedanticism aside, whatever Ms George’s role in ‘Home and Away’ was, it is part of her history, part of her song lines. Personally, I don’t like to be reminded of that party in 1989 where I threw up on my friend Gerard’s bed or that time I spent all my pocket-money on a pair of three-toned deck shoes that I only ever wore once, but it’s all part of who I am and how I got to where I am today.
I say suck it up with that l’il ole French espresso, Melissa, and maybe save your moaning for your bulldog. That’s what pets are for.
The formerly fashionable NDM had three children and discovered that brown is the new black the hard way. The force behind the once-was-blog Not Drowning, Mothering, she now very occasionally writes for the sometimes-blog The NDM. In her spare time, she enjoys baking cakes, cyber-hassling advertising executives and collecting photos of unusual objects made out of paperclips. She also longs for the day her name will be preceded by the words ‘Australia’s Own™’.