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Be all that as it may, meanwhile:
In other news…
Saturday: How long is it since I’ve written “It’s Sarrerdi!”? Well, however long, I’ve just shortened the time passed when next I ask the question. Oh how we Inkletter’s love Sarrerdis! Another week almost bitten the dust; the duties and obligations buried for another week.
I had awoken in the middle of the night feeling unwell in the heart area, but it eventually wore off, and I got back to sleep. I was up at sparrows plus a couple of hours, leaving the heavenly hellhound slumbering. I watched a recording of Letterman from Thursday while eating a bowl of mandarins and doing some exercise, glad to be feeling a bit better in the chest. Madonna and Harry Connick Jr were his guests; Madonna was forthright about her failed marriage; I remember an episode not so long back when she was chastening Dave for not having married the mother of Harry, Regina Lasko. Anyway, I feel sorry for Madonna, who I think is mellowing at long last. I also will never forget how pleasant a guest Harry Connick Jr was years ago here at a Perth Telethon.
Later in the morning, when the zesty zither was up, I watched last night’s Lateline, helped by a plate of six apples and pears sliced up with cheese, courtesy of the aforementioned dewlapped dollface: The (Leigh) Sales Graph: Ms Sales looked excellent, in a broad shouldered white with black patterned, or was it a black with white patterned? – suffice to know it looked very attractive – jacket, loose hairstyle that suits her so well, subtle make-up but for a bit of strength in the mascara, all complementing admirably. Her political beasts she had for the wrap up on the week in Australian politics were those two calloused performers, Tony Abbott and Lindsay Tanner: Tanner on-screen from Melbourne, looking dandy in a very dark suit and glowing seaweedish tie, his nineteen remaining strands of hair carefully coiffured; Abbott in-studio also looking snappy, a burnished bright gold tie dominating his white shirt real estate and dark suit. Calloused yes, but the pair of them are likeable, and so to have these relatively well mannered (‘bullshitting’ excluded) older roosters locking combs would likely be a pleasant bit of work for Ms Sales.
The main topic was the ETS, and Malcolm Turnbull’s ultimatum to his backbench to support his position of negotiation with the Government before another vote on the legislation. I didn’t quite understand Ms Sales’ point with her remark about per capita emissions of Australia, Luxemburg, and Canada: she didn’t mean total emissions; I know that while Australia’s emissions as a percentage of global emissions are tiny, our per capita emissions are high, but then we are not only in Luxemburg and Canada’s ballpark, we are in the U.S.A.’s as well; perhaps she was referring to the small total emissions of we three, despite being in the highest echelon of per capita emitters?; I might well be missing something though. She gently read the riot act to Mr Abbott with ‘we’ve made that point’, and he cooperated: pollies never seem to be able to resist pushing their point, no matter how repetitive; I have to admit, if I was a polly, I’d doubtless be guilty of the same, and in need of the riot act being read to me during my interviews.
Mr Tanner, despite being one of the straightest talkers in Australian politics, nevertheless proved again tonight that he is very good at spinning each particular issue to make the Government look good. I commend Mr Abbott for how well and eloquently he explained his side’s position on the ETS, regardless of its merits – which I think are substantial – for his description leads one to think that there is clarity and intelligence here and there to be found in our politics still.
Mr Abbott did a masterly complete avoidance of the question of Ms Sales regarding whether he would be a candidate for leadership of The Liberals if Mr Turnbull should fall on his sword; one could easily believe that the man is an angel, and would never be anything but uber loyal.
When Ms Sales changed the subject to the economy, there was a cute moment when Mr Abbott declared that the deficit is entirely the result of ‘Labor’s spending spree’; Ms Sales interjected with “Entirely the result?”, with a hint of an incredulous smile. His answer, to my surprise, might well have been accurate – my economics knowledge lets me down, so he might have pulled that one off; he talked of a one percent taxation revenue downturn roughly equalling the surplus prior to the stimulus spending.
The interview ended on a very jovial and pleasant note: Ms Sales asked the boys for their favourite songs, and they both joined in the frivolity with relish. Her remark about Mr Turnbull’s choice of ‘Me and Bobby McGee’ being rather apt given its lyric ‘Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose’ while eyeballing Mr Abbott was a magic moment. She noted to Mr Abbott that he is known for unexpected comments, and wondered if he was about to let out a love of Britney Spears. Ms Sales’ handling of this bit of fun was superb: she had the pair of seasoned pollies in the palm of her hand, and they obliged graciously and dived into the spirit of fun that she had unleashed. My rule of keeping pollies out of their comfort zones does not apply in situations like this, and moreover she left the fun till the pointy business end was done. I think she had a perfect pair to indulge with also. I know Tony Abbott has a reputation for punching too hard now and then, slipping in the occasional “bullshit”if he thinks the microphones are asleep, but he has a very gracious side more often from my observations, evidenced yet again tonight by the simple little touch he applies so often, and that is by bidding a pleasant farewell or simple ‘thanks’ to his opposite number as well as Ms Sales in his sign off; these little things matter a lot, and do illuminate the interiors of a person somewhat. A memorable interview.
Happily Stephen Long came in to the studio for his weekly round up of echo gnommicks: The (Stephen) Long and Short of It: As always, Mr Long looked immaculate, freshly zhuzzed curly hair, dark suited, white shirted, and, apparently, a blue and YELLOW tie, for our TV and my eyes could not discern the yellow. The job losses in the
I tackled a kitchen clean up followed by a floor mopping, which took me forever, before a small lunch forced upon me by the testy titfortatter, finally getting outside about half three to work up yonder at the damaged fence, to clear away the mess for the new fence panels to be dug in. I conveniently managed to be up there for the scheduled call in by the local Mormon missionaries, whom the tintinnabulating tinkerbell entertained and fed and watered and sent on their way laden with goodies, all without my illustrious presence, thank heavens! The Deelers, Meg and Murrah, called in at about the same time apparently, but I was none the wiser. I finally got the area to a state that I’m happy enough with before the nibs return and want to get started on the fence repair. I was exhausted again as yesterday, even though the amount of physical work was not so great. I managed some writing back inside for a spell before returning just before dark to the back corner, and by the time My Beloved came on I was ready to expire.
I struggled against my desire to sleep after din dins, showering and then writing instead, and before I knew where I was it was almost
+paytontedwithlove+
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