We’ve got used to seeing advertising everywhere, but I must say the idea of advertising on clothes doesn’t quite sit right with me.

Obviously if you’re paying for clothing promoting something because you’re a fan, that’s fair enough. Your favourite band or TV show or footy team.

But have clothing companies earned the right to have their brand on us? If you assume Levi’s are getting some promotion value out of having their brand on my bum, is that subsidising the cost of buying the jeans, or are they just raking in more dosh? A bit of both I suppose.

Oh well, I buy Levi’s because I find them comfortable. Are the people who wear Nike caps trying to show they’re fans of Nike? Or is the Nike cap functionally the only one up to the job?

Two days late, but I thought I could knock off two birds with one stone. Tony posted an artefact from the defunct Daimaru, and issued a challenge: find something from a now-gone department store.

Well, here is my kitchen clock.

It came from a shop that was somewhere inside the beautiful art deco Capitol building on Swanston Street. The shop was not huge, but proclaimed itself to be “Palmers Department Store.” They definitely had delusions of grandeur.

I got the clock about 12 years ago, and it’s certainly lasted longer than the store. Every couple of years it needs a new AA battery, but apart from adjusting for summer and winter time, it gives no trouble.

Feel free to post a picture of your clock… Link in the Trackbacks or comments.

• Past photos in this series

Things I did on the weekend:

Tried out my sister’s new couch, which was altogether way too comfy.

Recorded my recitation of 75 digits of pi to share with the world.

Observed a truck pulling a trailer along the road with its indicators wired up wrong. The truck would indicate left as its trailer would indicate right. Very confusing.

Bought a book on a whim. I used to love The Daily Show when it was on SBS, so when I spotted this book from them I snapped it up. Especially since it was at the Sun bookshop in Yarraville, and the last time I spotted something good there, I failed to buy it, and someone came past a few days later and bought it before me, leaving me searching all over Melbourne to find another copy. Anyway it’s pretty damn funny.

Went into a church for about the first time in probably about five years.

Pondered the priest’s bad jokes, and how he had to do a better marketing job if he had any hope of expanding his congregation from the very occasional visitors present, many of whom probably only ever go into churches on the occasions of christenings, marriages and funerals.

Met a man called Lobster…

…at a post-christening barbecue where they didn’t serve lobster, but they did serve Lobster

Was asked something out of left field by a complete stranger. Managed not to say “mind your fecking business.”

Imparted the following advice to an occasional train traveller: Watergardens is the same as Sydenham. So good they named it twice.

I was with Rae, helping a work colleague of mine to move a table. A big dinner table, which for some reason was located in a market in a formerly disused railway goods shed somewhere near Flinders Street. The table needed to be moved to a furniture polishing shop elsewhere in the Melbourne CBD, and for some reason it had to be moved by hand.

We couldn’t initially figure out how to fit us all into the Range Rover, and some considered catching a number 50 tram from North Melbourne to get there. But then it was pointed out there were extra seats in the back tray we could use. And off we went to shift the table.

(For those who came in late, I don’t often remember my dreams, so I frequently blog them when I do. Lots of whacked out ideas in this one, but possible influences include: observing Adrian showing my kids how the pop-down seats in his stationwagon work yesterday… talk of a table lent to my sister… passing the Docklands, with its now partially demolished, partially still standing looooooong former railway goods shed.)

Last week I ran out of garbage bin liners, so I went to buy some more at the supermarket. When I got there I discovered the only ones in the correct size (34 litres) are scented. Mint scented, pine scented, lemon scented, something like that.

I decided on the lemon. So now my rubbish bin doesn’t smell of rubbish… it smells of lemon and rubbish.

A somewhat circuitous commute this morning.

9:05. Get to Glenhuntly station. Note large crowd on platform — never a good sign that late in the morning.

9:10. Connex lady is leaving for the day, but mumbles something about problems. Green button for latest info refuses to talk to me. I hang about at the front of the station looking out for a tram. By this point four have gone down towards the terminus, so surely some must eventually come back.

9:15. PA announcement about trees over tracks, overhead wire down, and general train mayhem. And it uses the phrase “Expect massive late running.” A bloke gets off yet another tram going the wrong way and tells me the Sandringham line is out too. I wonder about the nearby Dandenong line, but given no SMSs are coming through about any of this, figure Connex’s SMS machine has suffered from meltdown. (I heard a figure of 114 train cancellations between 5am and 10am.)

9:20. Two trams arrive. I board the first one, and note the driver’s frustration at the doors not entirely behaving. We proceed at a snail’s pace.

9:25. Get to the tram depot whereupon they boot everybody out onto the second tram. PA announcement about trams disrupted further up the line. Uh oh.

9:30. We get to South Caulfield Junction (aka Glenhuntly Road and Hawthorn Road). Some consultation between staff at the front of the tram. Looks like they’re diverting onto Hawthorn Road, which involves first turning in the wrong direction, then reversing at the crossover. They do this, partially confusing some people who didn’t overhear what the plan was.

9:40. Tram pauses a couple of times as we lose power momentarily. Perhaps because of diversions, too many trams in the area sucking out all the juice?

I try to ring 131-MET to find out if I should get out at Malvern to catch a train, but can’t get through, so decide to stay on the tram, which at least I know is moving. Ring my sister, get her to check some web sites. No info on them.

9:45. Rolling along Dandenong Road. Consolation: the cars are moving much slower than we are.

9:55. St Kilda Road. Mostly a smooth ride, plenty of cars banked up. One noted broken down in the middle of a traffic lane.

10:15. Get off tram in city, only about 35 minutes later than usual. Thank the tram driver, who after all had got me to work.

Not too bad in the grand scheme of things.

Who else has storm stories?

36 hours or so of constant rain. (Ah, stopped at last).

Cold last night.

I lit the pilot light and turned the heater on for a while. In February.

I noticed the kitchen ceiling is leaking. Surely that can’t be good. Thankfully it’s only minor, at least so far.

One of the fences is leaning over. Glad it’s not my house.

The kids wanted double doonas on their beds. As did I.

Is summer over already?