HIGGINS: “Give us a TV warning that viewers could be disturbed when Peter Costello is seen in the following program,” complains Payton L. Inkletter.

Be all that as it may, meanwhile:

In other news…

06^th March 2009:

Friday: What with a pee break, the four hours sleep came and went in a flash. I toyed with the idea of not seeing Bob today, and returning to the cot, but decided to push on. While the dragon slept I cleaned up the kitchen, did a cowboy back garden watering, then got ready for Bob’s, shot around and picked up Pa pree Inkletter and delivered him back to Missus InkleIcan’tbelieveIslepttilltwo, then set of east along Marshall Road through Malaga. On Malaga’s eastern fringe the mobble rang, the alabaster dragon no less, informing me that her brother’s car had broken down at his workplace, and he needed a lift. I asked the dragon to phone Bob’s and explain, apologise for the late notice, and cancel today’s swimming expedition.

I chucked a righty down Beechboro Road, and wended my way onto Tonkin Highway eventually, and, by memory – big mistake – found myself in Forrestfield at Bluescope Steel, but no Umple Dais in sight. I mobbled him, and he put me right, or so he thought. After getting lost again I consulted the street directory I realised where I was botching things, but don’t entirely blame me, for how’s this for a convergence of double ups?: Two parallel roads separated by a railway line go under the Tonkin overpass in Forrestfield, and I took Abernethy, and a little way to the north is Bluescope Steel, beside the grain silos. I should have taken Dundas Road, on the other side of the line, a little to the north of which is Bluescope Lysaght, beside the grain silos of Quaker Oats, no bull. Anyway, a little delayed, I picked up Umple Daffyd, and drove him back home, then called at our local Dewsons for more Harvey Fresh UHT mullock, four 12 packs in fact, still on sposhull somehow. Poor farmers, poor cows.

Given this major rearrangement of the afternoon of this warm low thirties Celsius day, I had Janny feed me toast and her homemade plum jam with a giant marshmallowed topped Milo – the drink of which it is said the difference it makes is marvellous – while watching the Antique Roadshow thingy program with Pa pree, then crawled into bed for four hours of badly needed shuteye. The alabaster dragon woke me by arrangement soon after ten, she having taken Pa pree home earlier, and I watched Lateline while eating din dins.

Leigh Sales had, for a pleasant change, a pair of newspaper journo honchos, Laura Tingle of The Australian Financial Review and Melbourne based (where else?) George Megalogenis of The Australian. The distance from the puerile political performances of our pollys that these two enjoy gave their assessments of Australia’s political katzenjammer a refreshing flavour. Leigh, like Ali Moore, is savvy enough to draw intelligent commentary from her interlocutors, providing they have it in them in the first place, which is not always the case with our pollies. It is hard not to drool over Laura, and there must be some women feel that way about George. And correct me if I’m mistaken, but Leigh and Stephen Long seem to enjoy each other’s company as well. And I enjoy Stephen’s appearances on Lateline; the fellow seems to have a good economic head on his shoulders; and a cute weird smile, which I think he learnt from his pet Rover when he was a boy.

Wow what a wonderful piece of art is that Archibald Prize winning painting of blind since birth Arnhem Land singer Geoffrey Gurrumul Yunupingu!; and how nice to see the artist Guy Maestri there with the adoring support of his dad; neither the canvas nor the father and son will the singer ever see.

Yuk, our TV screens have been smeared today with that political ejaculate that goes by the name of Peter Costello. I would feel much more charitable towards him if he wasn’t so intensely smug. Honestly, can he not do an internal work and come out shining and humble, so that any talents he has to offer in service to the public won’t be so hindered by his ego? My word doesn’t the long historical era we’re still in attract some objectionable ‘characters’ to politics! The list in Australia alone is a very long one through our short history.

Letterman’s interview with Jon Stewart demonstrated, if it was needed, that either he speaks before he thinks, or he is prepared to take risks. Oh, and I thought his Hitler joke regarding Bernard Madoff was very funny. The fourth U2 musical ending was good, and lining them up on the guest chairs for a shallow chat was interesting, slightly.

I did a cowboy kitchen clean up, some writing, and then went for a very very late walk on this blustery devil wind warm night, without my talking book, for I have to have it dangerously loud in such conditions to catch all the words. Missus InkleI’mhavingtroublegettingtosleep + (littlewonderyouslumberlush,havingslepttilltwo) got up for the second time because she couldn’t get to sleep, and saw me off into the oblivion of the inky night, pun intended. Once back I battled with my health for a while, then returned to writing.

A shower was just what the doctor ordered, before…

+paytontedwithlove+