THERE arises, from time to time, a hue and cry for a “Big Thing” to be built, discovered, or unearthed thus allowing Wagga to stake its rightful claim to be the “Big Banana” or prawn, or pineapple, or what-have-you of the south, for the throngs of tourists upon which Big Things apparently act like magnets on iron filings.
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I think I have the Big Solution.
I was once attracted by a scheme whereby we would build an enormous carp on the bank of the ‘Bidgee into which visitors, through its gaping jaws, could wander - perusing an assortment of exhibits, displays and junk for sale at an equally enormous profit in the belly of the beast.
The tail of the “Colossal Carp” could dangle over the levee and perhaps into the river, allowing tourists to peer from windows into the waters.
A bonus would be to have an anatomically suitable orifice through which patrons could eject themselves via a slide into the water.
Floating safely down to Wagga Beach, they would then be able to buy exclusive T-Shirts emblazoned: “I had a ROE on the river” or “I got pooped at Wagga”.
A competition could be run to name it and local tattooists might follow a common design for the “Big Charlie”.
Bogans already love Koi carps inked up their legs and such although I’ve always wondered why a a picture of a goldfish is such a popular tatt.
Care would have to be exercised depending on the eventual nick-name – tourists entering a tattoo parlour asking for a “Big Willy” across their chest might have simply strayed into the wrong sort of parlour.
Big Things, like most tourist attractions, work for reasons that defy psychology.
Don De Lilo’s novel White Noise included a description of one such conundrum: the narrator visits, at one point, “America’s Most Photographed Barn”.
Indeed, the barn – attractive enough but otherwise unremarkable in any way at all – is overlooked by a little viewing area which is continually chockers with snap-happy travelers, its attraction being that since it is “the most photographed” its fame has become self-perpetuating.
“Celebrities” are like that barn. There was some celebrity on TV the other day and I asked my wife (who is encyclopedic on these things) just what it was that the person actually did for a quid; was he an artist, a sportsman, an explorer? “He’s a celebrity” she answered. See? Just like the barn – the world will beat a path to the door of the world’s biggest nincompoop if they’re a celebrity.
However, recently I’ve gone cold on the Big Carp idea. Now I like the idea of advertising Wagga as an "event-free destination" where we do nothing.
Imagine road signs and splashy press ads proclaiming, "Wagga: move along, nothing to see here" or just a simple "Stay away - we're not doing anything, honest!"
I predict that hordes would flock into the city convinced that we're selfishly trying to hush up the best and biggest thing since Ben Hur!
The main advantage is that it allows every visitor to come to their own conclusions about whatever it is they think was the point of their visit.
Even those who twig to the trick will not want to admit what duffers they are and will talk it up amongst their friends as one of the best things they've ever seen – but can’t possibly describe it – ensuring an ever-expanding throng arriving to see a Big Nothing.