CASA's Nightmare.
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CASA's Nightmare.
The Director of CASA woke up one morning and switched on her television. For her the TV was deliberate mild distraction as she busied herself with breakfast and her morning routine before her chauffeur arrived. As she reached for the vegemite, she glanced at the screen to see an image of a country airport.
While the sound was muted, she saw images of shuttered hangars, pockmarked runways and dilapidated light aircraft sporting "For Sale" placards. A news presenter was speaking with a man on screen who was obviously very agitated about something. The image cut to a crying mother holding a baby, then an air ambulance then an official in a flouro safety vest standing next to a "closed" sign on a safety barrier grimacing in obvious discomfort.
The camera panned for a close up as the presenter shoved the microphone in Mr. Angry's face. She turned up the volume. "We are going to tell the Australian people what has been done to this industry at the next election. We will have members at every polling booth in every seat, telling this story of greed, corruption and waste." The TV cut to a video clip of the Prime Minister boarding his executive jet followed by video of the crying mother and then the air ambulance before advertisements again flooded the screen.
Her mobile phone rang.
While the sound was muted, she saw images of shuttered hangars, pockmarked runways and dilapidated light aircraft sporting "For Sale" placards. A news presenter was speaking with a man on screen who was obviously very agitated about something. The image cut to a crying mother holding a baby, then an air ambulance then an official in a flouro safety vest standing next to a "closed" sign on a safety barrier grimacing in obvious discomfort.
The camera panned for a close up as the presenter shoved the microphone in Mr. Angry's face. She turned up the volume. "We are going to tell the Australian people what has been done to this industry at the next election. We will have members at every polling booth in every seat, telling this story of greed, corruption and waste." The TV cut to a video clip of the Prime Minister boarding his executive jet followed by video of the crying mother and then the air ambulance before advertisements again flooded the screen.
Her mobile phone rang.
She answered the mobile.
It was the Chairman of the Board. ”Yassmin, I have some bad news.”
“I’m used to it!”, quipped the plucky DAS.
”It’s serious this time”. The Chairman’s tone implicitly confirmed the words.
”Give it to me straight”, said Yassmin.
”You’ll be getting only a 15% bonus this year”.
The colour drained from Yassmin’s face and the mobile fell from her hand.
“Yassmin! Yassmin! Are you OK”?
It was only after a year’s stress leave that Yassmin was once again able to return to lead another decade of regulatory reform.
It was the Chairman of the Board. ”Yassmin, I have some bad news.”
“I’m used to it!”, quipped the plucky DAS.
”It’s serious this time”. The Chairman’s tone implicitly confirmed the words.
”Give it to me straight”, said Yassmin.
”You’ll be getting only a 15% bonus this year”.
The colour drained from Yassmin’s face and the mobile fell from her hand.
“Yassmin! Yassmin! Are you OK”?
It was only after a year’s stress leave that Yassmin was once again able to return to lead another decade of regulatory reform.
