I’m sure advertising is an art. Inducing people into handing over their precious dosh in return for whatever crap you happen to be selling must be quite difficult - which is probably why advertising types always seem to be rolling in it. At least, the good ones probably are. The good ones being those who have convinced their clients to hand over their precious dosh in return for whatever sales pitch they come up with.

Last week I spotted two sales pitches worth mentioning. One good, the other bad.

First the bad. A bloke on the corner of Elizabeth and Lonsdale Streets in the lunch hour, a pile of what could loosely be described as pamphlets in one hand. I presume these pamphlets were destined to be read by potential customers. I have to presume this, because unlike the more successful people who do this job, he held them close to his body, rather than thrusting them in people’s faces. I got the feeling that if someone actually wanted one they might have had to knock him unconscious and prised it from his hand.

And rather than bellowing his sales pitch for all in the vicinity to be deafened by and take notice of, he was hardly noticeable. I was with two other people when I passed him. One didn’t notice the guy at all. The other thought he was just waiting to cross the street. Only I heard his feeble cry… "Shirt ten dollars." Well he’s not going to win Spruiker Of The Year now, is he.

However, this week’s winning sales pitch was a masterstroke. It intrigued with its vague description of the goods on offer. It amused with its honest Aussie larrikinism. It informed with its precise address and helpful arrows pointing in the direction to go. Pasted around my neighbourhood today were notices that proclaimed:

GARAGE SALE! 14 BENT ST

* Toys/Books/CD’s
* Computer software
* Bric a Brac & Shit!

Well if that doesn’t get the crowds in, I don’t know what will!

On the other hand, while eye-catching, they didn’t actually work on me - I never got around to going down there and finding out what they had. Tonight though, I did souvenir one so I could accurately reproduce it here. And so I could stick up in the spare room as a memory of possibly one of the great garage sales that I have so tragically missed out on.

It seems I’m not updating my diary as much as I’d like to - obviously the consequence of having a job where I’m not at home three quarters of the time, and have to do some actual, real, genuine work.

Looking in the mirror this morning I suddenly noticed how much grey hair I have. A lot. Far too much for someone of 26. What could be causing it?

Is it stress? I don’t feel stressed. At least, I don’t think I feel stressed. Do I have a lot of worries? Do I worry too much about the worries I should be worrying about? Actually, I had my blood pressure checked a couple of weeks ago. 90 over 60. Or was it 60 over 90? Or was it 190 over 160? I can’t remember now, and it’s beginning to worry me.

Too much exercise? Ha! Not that I think I’m vastly unfit or anything. Just moderately unfit.

Actually, the last place I didn’t work at had a gym inside the building. Well, somewhere inside the building. You went to the ground floor foyer (which from my desk was out of the office, along a corridor and through the reception area), along a corridor, through some doors, down some steps, around a corner, down some more steps and along another corridor through some doors and around a corner and down a corridor… and there it was. You didn’t need to join, you just had to go down and back once or twice a day to keep fit.

But grey hair at 26? By the time I’m 30 will I have a sprinkle of grey… at 35 all grey and at 45 all white? Would it suit me? Do I believe the people, my wife included, who claim it looks distinguished? Or should I spray paint it? Should I give up now and shave it all off?

Nah. Better grey hair than no hair. Ermm… I think.

By the way, if you have a picture of yourself on file and a paint program handy, I thoroughly recommend trying out different hairstyles on yourself. They may not look terribly good (or terribly genuine), but it is a helluva load of fun.