An Irishman's Diary

The case of a middle-aged Australian couple who went on a spur-of-the-moment weekend away and returned to find the homicide squad on the front lawn, holding a press conference about their presumed disappearance, is a parable of our times.

Roy Ostell, a 63-year-old doctor, and his wife Heather (58) had been in such a hurry to leave their home near Melbourne last Friday that they didn't get around to telling their daughter Angela. They also forgot to lock the door and, in what would later look like odd behaviour, left a full cup of tea beside the sink.

Further complicating the picture was that, having abandoned their original plan - a weekend of amateur gold prospecting - for a more relaxing break at a lake resort, they left a brand new metal detector and other equipment on the floor of the house.

The family dog was later found wandering nearby.

So when their daughter called on Sunday and surveyed the scene, she added two and two together. Then she multiplied the answer by another two, before calling the police.

By Monday morning, detectives were combing the property for evidence of murder. The media gathered to hear grim news. Det Sgt Charlie Bezzina was preparing to brief them and hand out pictures when - lo! - the missing couple pulled into the driveway in their vintage Volkswagen camper van: relaxed after their impromptu break but puzzled by the fuss.

Instead of a missing persons investigation, the media were treated to a scene out of Home and Away. The errant couple were ushered inside to help their "visibly furious" daughter with her inquiries; after which they re-emerged to fill in gaps in the story.

A few people had been told about their plans, they explained, and there were arrangements for the dog to be fed. They just hadn't been able to reach Angela. A "sheepish" Mrs Ostell blamed her husband for not locking the door and thereby allowing the dog to escape. "We're normally very security-conscious," she insisted. "But as I say, it was a pretty spur-of-the-moment thing.

Hit the road and get out of here." None of the confusion would have happened, of course, if the Ostells had not deliberately left their mobile phone charger behind so as not to be in contact. Always-on e-mail was not a priority in their packing either. And since rural Victoria is still shockingly deficient in CCTV cameras, their escape to the countryside went unrecorded, even on YouTube.

Also, the couple successfully avoided listening to the radio all weekend. Which proves that - by making a bit of effort - you really can still get away from it all, at least for short periods. The drawback being, as we have seen, that you may set off a homicide investigation.

It does sound like the Ostells were a little careless. But the case also highlights both how obsessed we have become with knowing exactly where all the people in our lives are at any given time, and how dependent we are on communications technology to tell us.

This is why you can't take a train any more without hearing fellow passengers loudly confirm their whereabouts ("I'm on the train!") via mobile phone to people who, as recently as 10 years ago, would either have had to do without this vital information, or would have had to piece it together from other clues.

The generational misunderstanding in the Melbourne case was exacerbated, clearly, by the fact that Mr and Mrs Ostell are children of the 1960s. This was an era when spontaneity was not only tolerated, but highly prized. Back then, an unplanned weekend at a lake resort might have been accompanied by such popular song lyrics of the era as: "Turn off your mind, relax, and float down stream".

Nowadays, John Lennon's suggestion would be severely frowned upon by health and safety authorities. Turning off your mind while floating down stream would be bad enough. But doing while in charge of a mechanically propelled marine vehicle would probably invalidate your travel insurance.

Perhaps the Ostells were just trying to keep some romance in their marriage. It's not so long ago, after all, that spontaneity was still considered essential to a relationship. Unfortunately this notion may be going the same way as that old TV ad for all-over body spray. You remember: the one with the catchline: "Men just can't help acting on impulse".

A glance at the courts page of any newspaper suggests that the slogan had some truth. But it became politically incorrect during the 1980s. As did all-over body spray, of course.

The police who investigated the Ostells case were just pleased it had a happy ending. The hapless couple faced a tougher task repairing relations with their daughter, however, with the Sydney Morning Herald reporting some "shouting" from the house.

The message for old hippy parents everywhere is to avoid making spur-of-the-moment decisions, if at all possible. And for God's sake, call your kids once in a while.