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Wednesday, November 4, 2009

OAK RIDGE: From splitting uranium to splitting headaches, to chasing cancer in search, find, and destroy roles: a mixed blessing, thinks P.L.Inkletter


Be all that as it may, meanwhile:


In other news…

04th November 2009:


Wednesday: Having retired well after dawn, and with the pair of we lovebirds taking ages to settle, the merry mattresstaker eventually settling down – and to my advantage was up at seven to pick up Umple Dais from Wangara, where he is having window tinting put on his new wheels – allowing me from about eight to get maybe four hours reasonable sleep.


And what a hot one I woke up to, not my missus, who was away returning Umple Dais to Wangara to get his finished car, but rather an ovenish day which was well under way this noontime. I moved heaven and earth, relatively speaking for me, and after a kitchen clean up and some watering in the back garden, set off by half two for Guildford to take Bob to Perth city.


A crowded train, an ignorant passenger beside me, listening to his mobile phone’s music (I use the word ‘music’ very loosely) option at a ridiculous volume without earphones, and before we knew it, Bob and I were spilled out onto Perth Central’s platform, ready for Bob to paint the town red. The sky was a treacly pastiche of grey summer storm clowds smeared almost fully below the hidden wide blue welkin.


We did the things that please the fellow, Bobster, and my highlight was our time in Supreme Court Gardens beside the last giant clump of Bambusa balcoa, which has escaped the scorched earth policy of the despicable bamboonazis on the Perth City Council’s payroll, delighting in the scurrying of the willie wagtails after the tiniest of insects, and obviously catching enough to keep doing it, or not – and so needing to keep trying.


We weren’t back till almost seven, and the shock of the heat at Guildford station’s platform reminded us that relief was some time away yet. Fuel and money were two jobs that I attended to on my return, and after massaging the ATM came a wait of ten minutes in a queue of two cars, mine being one of these, at Woolies Petrol in Turana; the fact that there are eight of these queues, with some five and six cars deep, plus the presence of only one overworked cashier, explains the delay.



I missed Kezza the Great, but managed to stay awake, with great weariness setting in, for the next two Aunty offerings, after which I was slipping in and out of delta, the devoted dalliance having fed me. I managed to perk up, and attended to some computer housekeeping, as well as downloading a number of Radio National mp3s for Baby Inkletter, who regularly emails me lists of ABC broadcasts to get for her (the macadamia hasn’t fallen far from the tree with this square predilection for many things Aunty), before Lateline, having already put a very tired marvellous muscatel to bed: The (Leigh) Sales Graph: Looking consummately smart in a dark grey jacket and a grey, dark, and light mottled high necked blouse, Ms Sales’ hair style was loose hanging but concaved sufficiently to enhance her natural beauty, which, apart from a slight over-emphasis with her eyeliner, was helped by subtle effect make-up, jewellery being but the smallest of earrings – all in all a visual delight, but more importantly, dressed to interview at the highest level.


And interview at this level she did, with her distinguished interlocutor from New York being former Vice President Al Gore, the author of a follow up book ‘Our Choice’ to ‘An Inconvenient Truth’, who looked as double-dyed in his choice of attire and masculine styling as did our Sydney end, going with the almost mandatory dark suit, white shirt, and relieved by a bright blue tie. Before I comment on the detail of their discussion, let me wax a moment on what I’ve said before, will say now, and hope I can often say again: how bracing and elating it is to experience a discussion-interview between two intelligent people, each blessed with a measure of maturity beyond the average; it would matter little what they talked about, for the ambience of the sophisticated meeting of minds is one of its own rewards.


Mr Gore conducted himself admirably, demonstrating his high intelligence and articulation skill effortlessly, aided by the quality of Ms Sales’ approach and the timbre of the questions and comments she offered. I did chuckle at the outset over a pun not intended from Ms Sales: “… the man perhaps more associated with global warming than anybody else, the former United States Vice President Al Gore”; I know he’s talked tirelessly on the subject, but surely his personal verbosal impact has melted little Arctic ice?; Heaven forbid that she was opaquely referring to his flatus volume!


Ms Sales gave Mr Gore every uninterrupted opportunity to delineate his opinions, and this he did so eloquently that one could profitably use this interlocution as a study on fluency and relevance on the fly – no mean feat. I particularly like the fact that Mr Gore endeavoured to solidly answer and meet every question and position Ms Sales put to him. He did not even shirk from a mildly personally challenging question early on regarding Nicholas Stern’s recommendation on mass take up of vegetarianism as a powerful contribution to managing climate change, and his rejoinder to this invitation was as saturated with intelligence as the rest of Mr Gore’s contribution to this engrossing interview. David Letterman’s many jokes at Mr Gore’s expense did come to mind during this question, I confess.


Speaking of Stern, throughout Ms Sales was a frame of sternness, not allowing a shred of levity to invade her deportment, but it mattered not, neither for the overall interview quality, nor did it faze Mr Gore.


I have to admit to not having watched ‘An Inconvenient Truth’, but this interview impressed me with why Mr Gore is such an asset to the climate change activist side. In addition to his quality of exposition, he imparted much technical detail in a very layman user friendly way, even poetically at times.


He was the epitome of politeness from the outset, and he ended the interview, after a most fitting thank you from Ms Sales, with graciousness. My thanks to both Ms Sales and Mr Gore for this quality interview, 17 minutes of enlightenment, now tucked away in my bulging ABC archive.


Foolishly as it transpired, I traded on the revivification that occurred for me mid evening, after falling in and out of sleep earlier, to begin my usual after midnight routine, including going for a very late walk around half two, on this warm overcasted night, moonlight piercing through to shed the occasional moonshadow. My Patsy Clining, the kitchen clean up, and writing I did meant that by the time I tried to go to sleep around three, I was too awake to fall asleep. Try as I did, it didn’t work, and I got maybe an hour if I was lucky of delta.


This had repercussions later in the new day.

+paytontedwithlove+

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