Those last two commentaries went by pretty fast, and so we are moving along to Alan Mull just as my plane passes Muscat. Is this a hint that I will need a drink before continuing?
(I do not, in fact, write these posts under the influence of anything except sleep deprivation. I’m always like this. I like to think that it’s part of my charm.)
Alan Mull wants you to know that he is an entrepreneur and retried farmer from pioneering stock, whose great-grandfather selected land in Tawonga in 1867. I am resisting the urge to indulge in family history one-upmanship here, because while most of my family are recent immigrants, we do have an ancestress who was born here in 1815. Ah. Apparently, I’m not resisting that urge after all. Oh well.
Mr Mull is running on a platform of honesty and integrity. Who would like to bet me that we are going to get references to government corruption on this page? Perhaps even a hint of a Royal Commission? I’m sorry, these posts are getting frivolous now. I’ve been on the road for a while…
