Buying Australian

There are generally only two places where I buy books. One is an independent bookstore on Bourke St in Melbourne and the other is a major US online retailer.

The former is my favourite; the store is not large but I don't ever recall them ever not having a book that I was looking for. If that ever did happen, I strongly suspect the staff would recommend something that would turn out being better than the thing I was looking for. It wouldn't matter which member of staff I spoke with, either. They all seem very switched on. This isn't a place for discounted books, but I don't mind. This is the type of institution that I support because it's useful; but also one whose existence makes me feel a bit better about the world.

My second bookstore is so practical that I still find it a bit disconcerting. I order from my desk. They have pretty much everything I could ever think of. It arrives on my desk at work within about a week. And it's cheap.

I buy from both and both delight me, in different ways.

Last week, I turned on the 7.30 Report and heard the CEO of a major Australian "big box" bookseller decrying my second favourite bookseller. Apparently, a combination of avoiding GST and the strong AU dollar is driving them out of business. The Big Box is considering sending online sales offshore to avoid GST and help the compete.

I found this man and his interview very annoying.

The simple fact that any Australian who's been shopping in New York or Hong Kong will quickly realise is that, even at historically moderate exchange rates, Australian get screwed when it comes to shopping. Part of this surely has to do with low economies of scale for serving the Australian market. However, I recently spoke to someone in a bike store about a particular brand of bike shoes that the store was now charging customers $20 to try on. "These cost half the price online," he confided "we know everyone will buy them online. The guy who owns the licencing in Australia charges such an exorbitant price that we can't drop our prices; charging people to try them on is the only way we can make money from them". So perhaps, opportunism in this market is also playing a part.

Clearly, retailers not having to pay tax from overseas is an unfair imbalance in the market and perhaps one that will eventually demand correction. Obviously, it does not make sense to let industries be destroyed when the dollar is high when they will be critical again if the exchange rate backs off.

However, big book stores aren't losing market share because of international competition; they're losing it because they're paying for a warehouse size area of prime retail space and they still can't manage to stock the book I'm after. As a friend who works in the industry once commented "when a book hits the bestseller list, they buy in a thousand copies, but no one there realises that this book is the second one in a series and that people will also want to buy the first book. They don't buy any of those and people come in and want both.". Who'd have thought - it seems that knowing about books might be of benefit in selling them.

This morning, again, in the Australian, Gerry Harvey of Harvey Norman was bemoaning the inequities of being an Australian retailer. I suppose that's his job and is new found concern with the Government's tax coffers is only to be expected. The point he perhaps misses is that shopping at the types of stores he operates is, for many including myself, a sort of retail hell. The staff are unhelpful. Either they ignore you, or they're trying to sell you crap you don't want or need to boost their commissions or move rubbish floor stock that no one else is dumb enough to buy. It's big. It's confusing. The store is in an unpleasant location, usually on a main road, and the bleak, bare frontage is a beacon of (sub)urban distress. I shop in these places - sure. But I don't want to. The fact that buying online means I can avoid this is an integral part of the attraction.

My life as an Industry

My parents keep bothering me about getting married and having baby

Persoanlly, I'm not too fussed about the whole business but I do understand their perspective. They have three children, ranging in age from their mid-twenties to their late-thrities. All have been in stable live-in relationships with their respective partners for at least three years. None are making any signs of "getting on with it".

As the youngest of these three I feel like I should be given the greatest leeway, but I think they've reached the point where they want grandchildren to tell their friends about and being deprived on them makes them feel a bit maligned. I can empathise with that, too, because I want to get a kitten and my boyfriend keeps telling me I have to wait until we can committ to being in the country for at least 10 years. Boo.

In any case, I now have a new argument for when they ask when I'm getting married - I'm waiting for an economic downturn.

My theory is that if I wait for a downturn, my marriage could turn me into my country's saviour. The tourist interest generated by the wedding will invariably bring a flood of vistitors, thus propping up the economy. In addition, my countrymen will be so delighted that it will buoy the public mood and probably generate a confidence-led economic recovery.

At least, that seems to be how it works in the UK.

I don't mind the British monarchy - I find it bafflingly peculiar, but I think it says more about the empire's subjects than it's rulers. Perhaps, however, this example of inhereted privelege doesn't offend people because it doesn't need to; it's anachronistic, certainly, but appears relatively benign.

However, I can't help but feel that the monarchy is more than just benign; it's a national industry. Why give up a living tourist attraction that commands no real power but brings in so many tourists each year? Would would become of the souvenir salesmen if we did that?