Ernest & Carmen

Once a year the nation unites.

People line up along the streets for hours. Voices in the air buzz with excitement. Others huddle and squash up before TV screens, mesmerised by moving figures.

As the moment approaches, they hold their breath. Transfixed. Temporarily paralyzed. The tension builds. Conversations muffled. Waiting.

Once a year the country pauses together for one purpose.

Sounds like a snapshot of Australia Day or something equally patriotic, doesn't it? But alas, if it was only so. The scene I was describing was typical of what I saw throughout the day yesterday - Melbourne Cup day.

People everywhere milling around TABs and lining up in temporary stalls. Clutching crumpled pieces of paper in their hands that costs them anything between $5 and $5,000 (or more!). People studying the newspapers and deep in philosophical discussion about each horse and jockey. Office workers hungrily lapping up the $2 sweeps for their chance at winning $50. Then moments later regretfully wishing they hadn't wasted the money (even though that's exactly what they said last year). And the lucky few who win regretfully wish they had put more money on it.

Men and women, young and old. United in their idoltary of greed and money.

It was as if the floodgates had opened. Colleagues who usually carry themselves with a degree of distinguished mannerisms now show a rare display of distasteful and undignified outbursts - everyone's an equestrian expert and everyone wants to be heard (and a couple of beers certainly don't help)! And those who don't normally even try to hide their crude, brutish nature...well, I won't even comment on that.

Shockingly disgusting behaviour. Such banal existence. But it's only to be expected from a nation of sinful beings who've rejected their Maker.

Now if only I felt the same sense of revulsion about sin in my own life.