Dear Morrie,
Australia might still be basking in the warm after-glow of those fantastic summer Olympics, but to my mind they haven't come close to the mighty emotional charge I'm getting from the Paralympics. The way Sydney has gotten behind these disadvantaged yet gifted athletes makes me very, very proud to be an Australian. Just like the Melbourne Games in 1956 first embraced the idea of all the world's athletes marching in the closing ceremony as a single block – an Aussie suggestion, I might add – I believe that Sydney in 2000 has finally brought the Paralympics out of the shadows of their able-bodied bigger sister. When you think that Barcelona had to give away EVERY ticket to their Paralympics – and Atlanta sold a very sad 25,000 tickets – the Australian public has embraced the Paralympics to the tune of close to a million tickets sold. I'm bristling with pride that so many sports-loving fans have paid for the privilege of watching these amazing men and women push themselves to the limits and beyond for themselves and their countries. But not everyone can get to Sydney to buy a ticket: there must be some other positive way of supporting these athletes. Please help.

Barry (Lorne, Victoria).

Morrie Bezzle replies.....

Like most things in life, my old China, there is .... but more on that soon.
I couldn't agree more, though, on just what a buzz I'm getting out of watching the Paralytics. When you've been in business as long as I have, you think you've become inured to emotion and the plight of little people but there have literally been tears running down this old sportsman's eyes just watching these special athletes giving their all for their country, watching what' s left of their arms flailing helplessly and their leg splayed this way and then that with the physical exertion of it all. I could hardly see for the tears by the time their races actually got under way.
I've got a special bond with these sportsmen and women because the good old Morrie came bloody close to being a competitor at this year's Paralytics himself. I'd been losing a bit of feeling in my toes earlier this year and the doctor said to me, "Morrie, if you don't cut down on the ciggies and the booze, you're going to lose both those pins!" I said, "Yeah right, doc. You try to get through the stresses and pressures of high-level business meeting after high-level business meeting day in, day out, without a crutch or two."
Still the warning really gave me a jolt and I did the right thing and got myself a new doctor. I 've also swapped my beloved Camels for filter-tips and I've switched to a high-quality single malt, so I think everything is going to all right, touch wood!
Still, who knows, hey? With that famous Bezzle drive and daring do, the Paralytics would have been as good as gold. Perhaps Athens then, especially as I've noticed there's a classification for those with multiple cirrhosis. Still, the good doc's warning did give me a jolt and I spent a lot of time at my business club in the following days thinking what it would be like to go through your entire life legless.
To clear my head, I left the club and went for a spin in the 1967 gold Mercedes Benz convertible that a business associate had given me to keep out of his car yard for a few days.
I took along for the ride the head of my office pool, Chantelle. As you would probably know, Barry, from your astute letter, that the secret to any good business is sound staff relations, and having Chantelle snuggling up beside me was no accident. I badly wanted to pump her for information on how the pool was performing, the level of staff morale, that sort of thing.
Chantelle's a crackerjack typist in her own right, but there's a few letters missing on the keyboard, if you get my drift. Perhaps she's got that cerebral paucity that afflicts quite a few of the Paralticans, so maybe I might just enter her for the Athens Games. I'd love to do that.
So, as you can see, Harry, your letter came at a time when for a number of reasons I'd been thinking about the Paralytics and had been, like you, musing over ways in which normal people could show their support for these athletes in a meaningful and supportive way.
Then it hit me like a bolt out of the blue when I was watching one of the sport's graduation ceremonies. Those things take a hell of a long time, which is fine for the wheelchair competitors because they get to sit down for a while. But the one I was watching had some Games wankers all puffed up and important being introduced when the three medal winners just had to stand there shaking and drooling and waving their pathetic little stubs at the crowd.
To my mind, that's no way to show respect and admiration for the crips and spasos that make the Games -– and their jobs – possible. What these fine athletes needed, I realised, was a portable yet sturdy supporting handrail; not just for those ceremonies but while they're waiting for their events to be hobbled. Luckily, I ran the idea past a tradesman I was using at the time to build some additional service booths at one of my inner-city offices and he said, "Too easy!" He had some sheets of high-quality chipboard left over from a job a few nights earlier and he's already knocked up the first batch of these portable supporting handrails. So that's where people like you come in, Larry. I'm going to be very frank here. These handrails haven't cost a motza to throw together, but their value is surely in the pride of being able to show your support for these very special athletes. There's plenty of space on each of the uprights for advertising yourself or your businesses, by the way, and one of them's all yours. The handrails are also shippable so athletes will use them again and again, so it's great exposure for everyone up to Athens and beyond. What's more, I'm going to ensure that a reasonable share of each handrail sale goes directly to the athletes themselves, because heaven knows they have enough costs of their own. Many spend their entire lives on legal, prescription drugs and I don't imagine they come any cheaper. So, Barry, as soon as you and any like-minded sports lovers send in their cheque for a measly $1500, I'll be sending the frames across to Stadium Australia and presenting them out to those who need them most. Simply make out your cheque to Crippled Athletes' Supporting Handrail. Bugger it: to save your time and mine, why not just make it out to CASH.

Morrie Bezzle is the director of Ramps 'R' Us Co. Ltd and sole proprietor of Walking Frame Walkabout Tours, both of Suite 21, Third Floor, 2344 Parramatta Road, Sydney. If the office is unattended, please leave a message at the snack bar downstairs.

The publisher and staff of The Bug take no responsibility for the advice provided in this column.