I discovered the Valley of the Lost CES Office while shopping for a faded purple Kingswood with three primed doors in one of our railway commuter towns.
I saw the silent carparks, the peeling posters, the bones of fast chicken and abandoned burgers picked clean by the pigeons, and bleached by the dry October sun. I stumbled over a crumbling Newstart claim form nearly covered by the dust, and stopping to rest, I heard a tinkling whispering sound, and suddenly I realised that even though the wind was quiet, the Valley did not lie still.
I seemed to be surrounded by a mystery so heavy and oppressive I could scarcely breathe. For street after street I wandered aimlessly in this Valley, seeking answers to the questions that raced through my fevered mind.
My quest for the purple Kingswood all but forsaken, I roamed the weary landscape, till I heard a door creaking and banging in the wind. It opened into an empty CES office, its stained and worn carpet showing where the busy activities of the modern Public Servant must have once filled the air with energy, purpose and not a little flatulence. But now, 'twas no longer so. Gaunt mice and half-poisoned cockroaches scuttled amongst the crumpled chip packets, the fungoid plastic cups and the occasional file spilled across the floor. Where was everyone? Why the hurrried departure? Why the endless For Sale signs in the streets, the dried up cafés, this empty office where Public Servants must have lived and died, where jabbering Jobseekers1 jousted joyfully, jamming Jobsystem2?
My head spinning, I could go no further. My coke and fries long gone, I sat down and resting thus, I heard faint but desperate whispers floating around me. It was then I learned the secret of the Valley of the lost CES office.
After some time - hours, days maybe - of being transfixed by the ghostly presences in that building, I gathered up some of the files and escaped from the valley. How I did so I am unable to remember. But now, to pay my final debt for being spared, I must tell you what I learned in that forlorn wilderness so many months ago:
When the day is oddly quiet
And the breeze seems not to blow
One would think the dust was resting
But you'll find this is not so.
It is whispering, softly whispering,
As it slowly moves along,
And for those who stop and listen
It will sing this mournful song -
Of Employers and the Jobstart3,
Of Self Service4 interviews,
Endless flextime days and smoko breaks -
The bosses want theirs too.
How the jobs seemed you could touch them
As you lay and gazed on high
At the posters where we're hoping
We'll be going when we die.
Yes, it all was whispers to me,
Of the days of long ago
When the clients and the Case Managers
Fought the crafty A.R.O.5
How the employers phoned the jobs in,
Happy clients lined the walls.
And now, everything is covered
By the debris from the Fall.
How the client left the job boards,
Went to lodge his claim that day
And the E.O.'s6 blew their boilers
When they thought he'd gone to stay.
He'd wandered far in search of water
To the good old Club Hotel,
And there his purse stripped bare by pokies
That were spinning as he fell.
How they found the long term client
With a stubby in his hands.
After months they could but wonder
If he’d died by human hand.
So they lapsed his record softly
From Jobsystem and the cards,
And his secret still is hidden
In the hotel carpark yard.
This is what they whispered to me
On the quiet dusty air
Of the staff and the employers,
And the client lying there.
If you want to learn their secret
Wander through this quiet land
And I'm sure you'll hear the story
Of Caboolture's final stand.
1. Jobseekers : jobless persons.
2. Jobsystem : computerised system holding records of jobseekers, employers and
jobs.
3. Jobstart : government wage subsidy paid to employers.
4. Self Service : a procedure where clients enquire about CES advertised jobs,
and then get knocked back. Used as a replacement for CES
contacting clients about jobs.
5. A.R.O. : Administrative Review Officer
6. E.O. : Employment Officer.
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Copyright 1999