There is much wisdom to be had in what was learnt in the first years of life,

Nursery rhymes which have endured across centuries encapsulate profound wisdom in a few words. While playful and fun, nursery rhymes are significant cultural fragments which when unpicked take us into a world, not of flowers and cute animals, but of messy politics, religious violence, sex, illness, murder, spies, traitors and the supernatural.

Baa Baa Black Sheep is about the medieval wool tax, imposed in the 13th century by King Edward I. Ring Around the Rosie, may be about the 1665 Great Bubonic Plague of London which killed 15% of Britain’s population, hence “atishoo, atishoo, we all fall down” (dead).

We can recognise Dutton:

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall

(Doing blooming nothing at all).

Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.

And all the King’s horses and all the King’s men

Couldn’t put Humpty together again.

They’ll be picking up the pieces for a very long time.

I’m guessing that Albo’s lovely, single mum, living in public housing, bought her son a book of nursery rhymes to help him learn to read. When I think of Albo, “the little engine that could”, comes to mind.

One version goes like this. A little railroad engine was employed pulling train cars, on and off the switches. One morning a long train of freight-cars asked a large engine in the roundhouse, one which was built for hard work, to pull it over the hill. “I can’t; that is too much a pull for me”, said the great engine. Then the train asked another big engine, and another, only to hear excuses and be refused.

In desperation, the train asked the little  switch engine to draw it up the grade and down the other side. The little engine thought hard and then decided “I think I can”. He linked on the front of the great heavy train. Then he bravely puffed and pulled, faster and faster, “I think I can, I think I can, I really think I can”. As it neared the top of the grade, which had so discouraged the larger engines, the little engine was feeling exhausted. But it had heart. It went more slowly, but it kept chugging on, “I think I can, I think I can”. It reached the top of the hill by drawing on all its courage, strength, determination and will-power.

And it arrived at the top, surprising even itself. Then the little engine glided down the grade, saying, “I thought I could, I thought I could, I really thought I could.” It basked in its own achievement, while the big, stronger engines looked on in wonder. How did that happen?

This little engine then looked up and saw across the meadow there was an even bigger hill to climb. And he thought what will I do? Will I rest on my laurels?

Will I just fiddle at the edges…

Row, row, row my boat gently down the stream,

Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, (for after all) life is but a dream.

I must keep in mind, of course,

If you see a crocodile, don’t forget to scream 

Because I know they are out there.

There is that great big carney, con man, the Wizard of Oz, living in his White house, run by lunatics, blowing hot air all over the world, and telling me I need to get more bombs and soldiers. He says the big bad wolf is the Red Emperor.

And there are a couple of others I know who are close by, who aren’t quite what they seem. I remember the advice from philosopher Bob Ellis who wrote the words for Maurice the Pig to sing in the Wakadoo Café in Lift Off.

The face I wear is useful because it’s so untruthful

I smile and jest but underneath I fear

The me that’s me, you’ll never see

the face beneath the face through which I peer

I wonder how I’d look if I was here.

What do I do, Albo thought, as he turned the page? There are all these people writing stories to give me counsel with names like Tom Dusevic, who says to “use my political capital now”, and James Massola is asking “will I be more ambitious now?” Bernard Keane says I’m “becoming like John Howard”. Ross Gittins says I’m a “do nothing”.

But I know, after what I’ve done, if I play my cards right, I could be around enjoying my life as the engine in chief for a long time yet…

like …the grand old Duke of York He had 10, 000 men He marched them up to the top of the hill And he marched them down again And when they were up, they were up And when they were down, they were down And when they were only half-way up They were neither up nor down

Those men got nowhere, and Sean Kelly is telling me to “have courage and no regrets”. Then Peter Hartcher says, “Think big”… and I think… maybe the grand old Duke didn’t have a plan, so his soldiers were pointless and ineffective.

Perhaps I could be the greatest prime minister of Australia in decades, if I can face the challenges, bring about the needed changes… work for climate change, ensure equality of opportunity to education and healthcare, childcare and aged care, secure housing, fix the tax system, even stand up to the American TACO. I can take the criticism on the chin, withstand the flack, and bring the mob along. It’s hard, but that little engine did it and I can.

Bob Ellis did have the right idea when he gave that puppet “Nearly” his words to sing in the Wakadoo Café:

Sometimes when you’re down as a person can be,

the life you live seems pointless and there’s nothing you can see that makes you feel a sense of what, In other times your heart would not,

It’s then you have to say, however bad your day, I can. I can do it.

All over people say that nothing can be done, and anyway, there’s nothing underneath the sun that’s worth the time of day,

But to them I say I can, I can do it in my way and to every one of them I’d say, I can. I can, I can, I will, I must.

There’s nothing that can stop someone who really cares. I can do it.

So, Mr Prime Minister, Anthony Albanese, these are the words we tell our children. You can have a go and show us all it can be done. Australia needs a leader who can play his part to secure the peace, environmental sustainability and a future for our children with conviction and courage.

 

The views expressed in this article may or may not reflect those of Pearls and Irritations.