You’ve heard people ask questions like, ‘Where were you when… JFK was assassinated, or when… Princess Diana was killed.’ When I hear such questions, I wonder who really remembers such things. Oddly enough, I vividly remember the very minute (and the location) of the incident that sparked the saga that is now chronicled in a book called, One One Five by Alan Manly, Julian Day, and Graeme Brosnan. Not only do I remember it… I was there, in the eye of the storm, on that cursed day when Julian Day and I were walking into the Hilton Hotel and down came THE man. The man who would put Alan and Julian through hell. I felt bad vibes at the time. I felt it in my waters. I saw the collision that would become a train-wreck (in the slowest of slow motions… taking ten years to come to a screeching halt). Oh, and the path of destruction was horrid. As with horrid things, books are written about them. After such agony, why would anyone want to spend another few years writing a book? Publishing is, in itself, agonising. I think that when an agonising experience cuts through to the nerve, one feels compelled to warn others.

This book is a warning. It tells a story about an invoice for $115. A fake invoice that riled Julian Day so much, that he went to North Sydney Police Station to lodge a formal complaint about the man who later became known as the ‘vexatious litigant’. People say that Americans are litigious. Oh dear, the man who fabricated that invoice (for photocopying) dragged Alan and Julian through over 200 court appearances.

One One Five is more than a book about a fraudster who nearly ruined two men. It is a book about how the Australian system of justice, is one crazy maze. It’s a bit like Hotel California where you can check-out any time you like, but you can never leave. Once you become a client of the court, they don’t want you to go. Fill in another form. Attend another hearing. Lodge another appeal. Sorry, he did not show up, so let’s meet again in two months. For Alan and Julian, the months turned into ten years, sucking every cent they had.

If you are considering suing anyone, buy this book and read it slowly!

If anyone has threatened to sue you, buy a copy and post it to them anonymously. They just might lose their appetite for that kind of justice.

After reading this book, I wished I had become a lawyer. It’s like the time I wished I had become a doctor after seeing so many people in pain, unable to afford medical assistance. And like the time I wanted to become a cop to rid the streets of thugs and idiots.

One One Five is published by AKA Publishing. It is a funny book (how sad that we can laugh at other people’s misfortunes). I think that it is made more funny by its turn-of-phrase. The book is well written. As a writer myself, I know how hard it is to tell a story, impart the ideas, make a point, while trying to entertain and captivate the reader. Hard work indeed. Yet it seems that Graeme Brosnan is a master at the turn-of-phrase. On many levels, this book is enjoyable, while being an eye-opener, as well as inspiring. Fight the good fight! Press on. Honour before justice. Principle before pain. Scruples before money. Two ordinary men took-on a system, and despite the scars and bruises, they never gave up. Such stamina. Almost every industry has awards. If the courts had awards, the award for valour would go to Alan Manly and Julian Day. I have to wonder how many judges were talking about the case over lunch each day, for a decade.

I attended the book launch which was held inside the very court building where Alan and Julian had frequented so often, that the staff at the cafe presumed them to be legal professionals. Two hundred court appearances, all over one hundred and fifteen dollars. Goodness, what’s the world coming to!

CHAPTER ONE – THE POLICE STATION

To show you how gripping this book is, let me share with you the first fifteen lines of Chapter One.

‘You can leave a hand grenade in a baby’s pram, or rolling about in the bottom of a fishing boat without a worry in the world. Grenades can be perfectly harmless, until you pull the pin. Remove the safety pin and a spring-loaded striker ignites a four-second fuse. Hurl the thing and your enemies will be blown to smithereens. However, timing is everything. Dither and you will be history. Throw it too quickly and your adversary will pick it up and throw it back. That’s the thing with bombs. Although easy to detonate, they’re not precise weapons and they’re unpredictable as well as deadly.

‘Late on Thursday afternoon, 8 March 1994, my colleague and friend, Julian Day, walked into North Sydney Police Station with a piece of paper as lethal as a hand grenade and set in motion a chain of events which changed our lives forever.’

As a book, One One Five is compelling. As a real story about two ordinary blokes who fell into quicksand, it is heartbreaking. As a lesson in life, it will raise your blood pressure.

If there is one thing at which I can claim to be an expert, it is Lebanese Cuisine. I can taste every dish and tell you precisely what is in it, how old each of the ingredients were when they were cut, and exactly how long ago they were prepared. As a non-drinker and non-smoker, my sense of smell, coupled with my hyperactive taste-buds, never miss a beat, considering that I grew-up on Lebanese food, delighting in the devine dishes served from loving aunts and cousins, and of course, my Mum who is the master-chef hands down.

When it comes to restaurant dining, Lebanese cuisine was never part of my routine because no-one can cook like Mum cooks. Why would I go to any restaurant that cannot live-up to my expectations. Hence, Lebanese restaurants were off limits for me. I have tried them all, and never set foot in them a second time… until Kadmus came along.

The chefs are the owners. Ossama and his wife Hanadi welcome their guests personally. They are perfect examples of what a restaurant ought to be: a home away from home, with meals that do not compromise in any shape or form. And to them, no meal is a product. It is a work of art. They blend the finest of ingredients with the same exacting delicacy as a chemist. Everything is precise, because every meal has to be perfect. 100% or nothing at all.

Now I take all my friends to Kadmus. It is in Drummoyne, just a few minutes from the city of Sydney. The consistency of the quality gives me the confidence to take my dear friends — as well as dignitaries who would no doubt have dined at the finest of establishments. Each time, it’s a hit!

I am a difficult customer when it comes to food. Of the hundreds of restaurants/venues in which I dine each year, only a handful can ever be considered worthy of my repeat business. Kadmus scores top marks. Indeed, the food is fresh, it is healthy, it is tasty, it is tangy, and the service is excellent. If I were made Mayor of Sydney, I would ban any outlet that dares to say that it is selling Tabouleh or Hommus that falls short of the real thing. It is a disgrace to witness the rubbish that is being dished-out under the guise of Lebanese food. If ever you have tasted Lebanese food and disliked it, I do not blame you. Most places cannot get it right because it is one of the most difficult foods to get right, partly because the preparation-time is exhausting. It takes ages to prepare. Also, there can be no short cuts, neither in the ingredients nor in the ways in which they must be mixed — it really is a science in this respect. A minute either way, and you’re out. Place the lemon before the salt, and you lose the magic. Timing and sequence are part of the 4000-year-old tradition. If you would like to finally experience what genuine/traditional Lebanese cuisine tastes like, dine at Kadmus. They are at 105 Thompson Street in Drummoyne. Their website is at www.Kadmus.com.au.

If Thai food is your preference, here is the best place I can recommend called Home Thai at www.HomeThai.com.au. You can close your eyes and point at anything on the menu, and it will be delicious. If you do not like chilli, you had better tell them because their food can be quite hot, but easily fixed if you ask them to hold the chilli. Mind you, expect to wait 25 minutes for a table on any night. Being located in the heart of the city, where hundreds of people have made Home Thai their nightly dining spot; and being the best restaurant on Sussex Street, they can’t cope with the demand. However, it’s worth the wait.

Kadmus Lebanese Restaurant and Home Thai are a joy to experience because, apart from the great food, we get to witness passion in action. People who love food, preparing outstanding meals lovingly. They are the elite force in food. Each meal is a carnival for the mouth. They stretch themselves each night, and the energy never drops. It’s full speed each and every time. That level of performance is uplifting. I admire people who do their job to the best of their ability. What heights our country would reach if politicians, executives, public servants, and employees could study the professionalism and drive of Ossama and Hanadi, and the creativity and genius behind the young founder of HomeThai! Imagine that.

While staying at the plush Langham Place Hotel in Hong Kong, I kept hearing fabulous music while walking through the foyer. At first, I thought that the hotel had invested in some new space-age audio-system that delivered crystal-clear sound to cocoon the guests from the frantic city outside. Everything about the hotel was impressive; down to the note paper. Langham Place took attention-to-detail to a whole new level. Therefore, hearing that melting music seemed to be part of the Langham touch, and I just presumed that it was a cool CD that a connoisseur had selected.

Hour by hour, I was agitating myself because I became too curious for comfort. I wanted to know who was singing, and the name of the CD, and the technology behind the audio system that could deliver pristine music that managed to convert a marble foyer into a velvet room. And then I heard an announcement which made me think, ‘Hang on, this can’t be a CD. Someone is singing, live.’ To my delight, I discovered that the soothing music was coming from upstairs. Wow, the singer was Aja Wilson, the Volcalist-in-Residence who was enthralling guests with her amazing elixirs. I was way too busy to hang around, but I had no choice. I was hypnotised. So I sat, ordered a meal, a bottle of mineral water, and soon became transfixed by the quality of Aja’s voice, her timing, her clarity, and the depth-of-feeling that Aja injected into each song.

I was basking in the moment, proud of Aja’s talent, while thinking that I shall one day delve into my memories and smile at this special encounter while a guest at a splendid hotel whose definition of quality extended to delivering superb entertainment. Mind you, I think that ‘entertainment’ is the wrong word. Aja is more than entertaining. I think she is captivating, soothing, and uplifting. I knew how busy I was going to be the next day. I knew how chaotic Hong Kong was outside the four walls, but I was at peace as I swam in Aja’s music bowl.

Some people enjoy meeting celebrities, whereas I prefer to meet geniuses. My spirit is elevated in the presence of pure talent. Their gold is my honey. Aja is a rare individual who is more than a celebrity. Aja is a star. The managers at Langham thought so; the hotel guests said so; and I felt it too.

Click this link to learn more about Aja Wilson at her Official Website.

Here are two tracks to tantalise you. The first is called ‘What’s up?’

Below is a song called ‘Sorry’.

I was walking past a fire station in New Zealand and noticed that next to each truck was a series of boots, through which the trousers were already threaded. A fire-fighter could jump into the boots, and then pull the overalls up. The jacket and the helmet are also within reach. I guess someone worked out that such preparedness could save a few seconds, and this in turn could save lives and property. Well done. The motto of the Scouts is ‘Be prepared’. This is a living example of it.

I happen to know and admire Terry White and his wife Rhonda. I have worked with them on a few assignments, and count them amongst my dear friends.

Terry and Rhonda had sent a copy of the book to me, and upon reading it, I wrote this letter to thank them. I thought to publish the letter here to share with you how the book impacted me. The book is available from all stores or from University of Queensland Press if you click here.

My letter to Terry and Rhonda follows:

My dear friends

I have often said, ‘When you see successful people, don’t just applaud… also shed a tear, because their journey would have been long and hard.’

I always knew that you, Rhonda and Terry, were remarkable souls. I had no idea about your background. I just knew that Terry was involved in serving his community via politics, and that Rhonda is a formidable retailing genius who raised a loving family while taking an interest in a range of fields. I knew nothing of the details, and I am not one to ask, preferring to give my friends their privacy.

It was evident from our special moments together that your rivers ‘ran deep’ and that your spirit was touched by God. All I knew was that you were delightful people who had energy and drive, and who held-firm to your principles. These inspiring qualities were evident from day-one. Your aura exuded your essence, which I felt was grounded in Christian values. It was by your actions that I knew who you were… citizens of substance and joy.

Before your book arrived, I had always held you both in the highest esteem. I did not know your history, and had no idea about your many challenges. I just felt that you were seasoned life-travellers whose journey was no doubt tough and rough, albeit rich and rewarding for you, your family, and all those who were fortunate enough to come into contact with you.

When you kindly sent me a copy of ‘A Prescription for Change’, I opened it in order to glance at it, thinking that I would put it aside and read it during a quiet moment. Alas, I was magnetised to it and could not put it down until I had devoured several chapters and realised that I was late to my next meeting.

Indeed, your story is an important one for so many people, on so many fronts. Your dear friends will benefit from learning more about your amazing childhood and teenage years, and about your family struggles that were not dissimilar to the struggles of many humble families of the day (not to mention the many families of modern times). Yet, it is fascinating that Terry would say that he enjoyed and appreciated his youth. Despite the hardship, it seems that you were grateful. This is a reflection of your good nature: you endure what comes, and you find the gems amidst the fire.

I am glad that you shared with us how you met Rhonda. Mind you, I felt uneasy about you leaving your sweetheart to go overseas, but I guess in every decision, we find lessons that will hold us in good stead. Indeed, it seems that your travels had awakened important questions in your mind.

The writer, Mr Tony Koch, must be commended for being able to re-tell each story in a simple, yet colourful way. Mr Koch was at no time an obstacle to the reader. I was able to visualise the townships, your workshops, your school, and your family gatherings. The only disappointment was that each chapter was shorter than I needed. I always felt that I would have benefited from additional stories. Then again, this is not a criticism. It highlights the skills of the writer: leaving the reader wanting more.

The political story woven throughout the book was gripping. At the time of his reign, I was too young to have fully understood what Joh Bjelke-Petersen stood for. I do recall his pesky presence on television, and I often wondered about his policies. Back then, I had no idea about the complexity of the political landscape which I now realise was a large part of your daily battles. Your book has sparked an interest to research that era in order to understand the corruption and the power-plays that were no doubt frustrating beyond belief. Although it is all over, I do feel for you both. I had not experienced this type of political degradation, but I did live through similar absurdities during the war in Beirut and later through similar human putridity while working for global corporate machines.

Those who have not been squeezed by unfathomable human/political weakness, might not fully appreciate the immense pressure that you must have suffered, while trying to push away the tide of injustice, pleading for some sanity and support from your friends who, instead of assisting you, were ‘advising’ you to back-off. Oh, I do know how difficult this can be. It is like being in a noisy chaotic street wherein no-one can hear you crying out for help.

Terry and Rhonda, your persistence in the face of opposition became obvious throughout the book, and it was during such moments that I, as the reader, and as someone who admires you, felt tense with frustration about a situation that I think still prevails to this day: the bastards make it difficult for the decent folk to get on with the job. But you held your ground, while you ran a business, stood-up to unethical business giants, raised a family, and clutched to your values.

I marvel at what people presume the act of ‘leadership’ to really mean. They often see leadership as some form of orchestration from on-high.

I believe that the story portrayed in your book is a perfect example of leadership: leading yourselves amidst turbulent, lonely, and scary times, while many about you are falling, failing, or distancing themselves. Yours is a story of leadership-in-action, fought in the trenches… declaring yet another war with another greedy idiot, while wondering if this punch might well be your last, or if that blow might well be the final one to knock you down. Despite these grave risks, you attacked, you defended, you bruised, and you pressed on, moved on… That was leadership: carving a new path through a dark jungle, simply because you refused to walk along easy-street where corruption of the mind and soul would have been the cheaper price for a smoother ride.

I found the book engaging. It is filled with lessons about perseverance and justice. It is a real story that depicts two people in the act of following their heart, even if it meant losing friends and infuriating people.

No doubt many have told you how funny it was to read: ‘Benjamin, say the fuck word one more time and you’ll have to stay here — I can’t afford one more fuck.’ I was glad that I was not drinking at the time of reading this chapter, because I would have sprayed the room. That line will go down in history as a cute example of a stressful altercation, involving the delightful Rhonda White whose body-language and voice jumped out from the page. I burst out laughing. Isn’t it interesting that we can find humour in such dramatic incidents that punctuate our lives. Perhaps time heals and time soothes and in the end, life’s struggles settle to reveal our strengths.

The survivors will endure; looking back to learn, to smile, to laugh. Indeed, we can laugh at what can now be described as a knee-slapper about a precious mother-and-son moment.

I thank you, dear friends, for sharing your story with me. And I congratulate Tony Koch on a story well told.

I have purchased additional copies to enrich my friends. ‘A Prescription for Change’ is more than an inspiring story. It is agitating, uplifting, insightful, and indeed infuriating because it reminds us that the world has not changed. Stupidity and myopia abound.

In the end, there is hope. We can learn from Rhonda and Terry that, by the Grace of God, we must neither give-up nor give-in.

You are role models for the new warriors who can learn from you both and say, ‘I, too, shall stand my ground. I shall not surrender!’

In my prayers, and with immense admiration,

Jonar Nader

Anyway, these days, the collectors have turned their attention to serve the tax office. Years ago, I knew the manager of a marina who would point out certain members of the public and say, ‘That man is a tax inspector’. He was able to spot the snoopers who came to his marina in order to take notes about the yachts. The tax office would then try to match the yacht-owners with their income tax returns, and work out who might be cheating on their tax payments. Anyone who had told the tax department that they had a bad year, would have a lot of explaining to do about how they came to afford a million-dollar vessel.

These days, small-business owners who deal in cash, and who cheat the system, are committing more than one offence. Naturally, not paying income tax is one criminal activity. The other is collecting GST/VAT from consumers and not passing it on. This means that a cash-based business is making an extraordinary profit. To combat the cash cheats, the tax department might be sending garbage collectors to collect all the clues about the activities of a small business.

Here’s how it works. Let’s say that you own a fast-food franchise, and it is your practice to always wear plastic gloves when preparing an order. The tax ‘rubbish’ collector would count how many boxes you discard during a three-month period. If you later say that you only sold 1000 sandwiches, yet you had discarded 20 empty glove boxes, you would have some explaining to do. Many small business operators do not realise that they leave behind many clues, despite trying very hard to cover their tracks. For example, some purchase their stock via the back door, using cash. You would be stunned if you really knew how much stock, delivered by the company representative, is really stuff that fell off the back of a truck. The manufacturer’s warehouse manager would be in cahoots with the delivery-truck driver, who stacks his truck with stolen goods, and sells them to convenience stores under the counter. I knew a wine company whose premium brand of wine was syphoned from the vineyard in large vats, and sold on the black market after being bottled by the thieves (being regular employees). Bottles are easy to buy or steal, and labels are easily stolen or printed. The extent to which this goes on is alarming. If the convenience store ever has to pay a legitimate invoice, such payments are mostly made via a second company that inflates its expenses via clever merchants who write out fake invoices made in the name of Company X which is a sister company of Company Y which is owned by the sister of the brother of the wife of the owner of Company Z which uses the ABN of an old unlisted company. (This is not supposes to happen, but it does. One of my investigations for my client defied all logic and found this type of anomaly, which the authorities denied could happen, but was happening, due to a computer loophole! It is possible to have a listed active ABN for a de-registered company). It’s all a dirty game. Made even dirtier when the employees, left to work on their own for a shift or two, rob the owner blind by stealing goods, giving products away to friends and family, and pocketing the takings without ringing them up on the cash resister.

Below we see a range of photos of the types of clues that tax inspectors can use. They will eventually ask the shop-owner to furnish the invoices for that stock. Unable to present the invoices, the shop-owners has to lie big-time, or blow the whistle on the truck-drivers from whose back things seem to fall off. As a result of this risky behaviour, a lot of delivery trucks are now delivering goods in plain boxes, completely unmarked. And the more serious ones are offering to pick-up the empty boxes, offering to refund deposits for such empty boxes, saying that they care about the environment. What a tangled web we weave.

It’s is always a game of cat and mouse, and for now, the tax inspectors and the tax auditors, are still one step ahead, if they choose to put their claws into you. Mind you, there are so many tax cheats out there, that it is really overwhelming. It gets to the point where the tax commissioner had to decide where to allocate the resources, given that the minister wants a return on investment. So it becomes a question of catching the big fish, the easy targets, and those that would make good media fodder.

The Japanese sushi train washes the lids each night. Taking a photo each day for 90 days will give the tax inspector some ammunition when challenging the restaurant to explain why it cries poor. From these lids, one can see that quite a lot of plates were produced. If the owner is going to say that most of the food was discarded, then the question would be, why make so many dishes each night, when the demand is so low?

If a bottle-shop keeps stocking the fridge each day, one can safely presume that the bottles are selling. If so, where are the invoices for these bottles? Paying cash does not mean that the bottle-shop can hide the takings.

A store with this level of daily stock movement ought to show a healthy set of books. Even if the business can say that it did not make a profit, the GST payments had better add up.

The cash-mad convenience stores will have a lot of explaining to do if they cannot show who supplied these goods, how they paid for them, and when they sold them. Then the flow-on effect will start, whereby the distributor had better show income for these deliveries.

Anyway, I am happy to announce a new discovery: drawers that no longer slam. What a great idea. I happened to be a guest of Jupiters Casino in Townsville, and the general manager was a gracious host who upgraded me to their best room. It was well appointed with all the modern conveniences, including these innovative silent drawers. As the video below will show you, no matter how hard I try to slam them shut, they will not slam. A hydraulic system absorbs the impact by slowing the draw, and then gently closing it. Perfect for hotels and cosy apartments! Especially where banging would disturb other guests.

P.S. There is a debate going on about the designer’s intent. A friend of mine says that these drawers were not so much designed to ‘not bang’, but to close fully at the slightest of suggestions. One simple flick and the draw closes all by itself, all the way, without needing any follow-up. If that be true, then, my goodness, what a load of engineering to cater to the lazy.

By the way, can anyone tell me why airlines use such convoluted reservation numbers? Q4LSBV seems like a top-security password. Why are the alphanumerical? Don’t you love it how there seems to be no discipline in how people say L for Larry and B for Bob. You might like to print out the following list so that you can appear learned. Believe me, anyone ‘in the know’ would be impressed if they heard you rattling-off the correct codes. (Last night I saw a billboard that said, ‘Be a traveller, not a tourist’. I had never thought about the difference because I travel a lot, and I think of myself as neither! Anyway, I could not remember for whom the billboard belonged, so I conducted a Google search and just realised, for the first time, that this expression is widely used, contested, and debated. In any case, if you know the verbal/phonetical alphabet signs, you might stand out as more than a traveller, and more than a tourist!)

A Alpha
B Bravo
C Charlie
D Delta
E Echo
F Foxtrot
G Golf
H Hotel
I Indigo
J Juliet
K Kilo
L Lima
M Mike
N November
O Oscar
P Papa
Q Quebec
R Romeo
S Sierra
T Tango
U Uniform
V Victor
W Whisky
X X-Ray
Y Yankee
Z Zulu

(I do understand that some regions have slight alterations to this list, but I did not want to confuse you.)

I telephoned their head office, but no-one knew about this building. I was uncertain about its location. After a lot of searching, we were unable to work it out. Then a few months later, a Julie contacted me from the franchise office and said that she might have cracked it. It was the address of the old factory, which is no longer in use.

The bakery dates back to 1988 when Noel Carroll and Noel Roberts founded the company. I would guess that this was their idea. And a clever one at that. Imagine how many people get to see that logo on approach to Sydney airport.





Recently, I spotted a roof sporting the Dr Pepper soft drink logo. It was on approach to Sydney airport, if my memory serves me. If you have information about that, I would like to take a look at it using Google Maps. I am not sure in which suburb it would have been.