BRIDGEPORT: "Tennis for two perhaps, but no nukes for any or all!" noted PL Inkletter. "He strived to rinse the pong from the little boy and fat man."

Be all that as it may, meanwhile:

'In other news…'

25^th October 2010

Monday: As I had got to bed so late – dawn – it was a late start for moi. I had a good excuse I think, having reworked overnight my draft of 'After the Rain' aka 'Man's Best Friends', a short story which I have to submit this coming weekend to have it considered for publication.

Convinced it was a swimming day with Bob, when I arrived at his place in Guildford, fashionably late, he informed me it was his city outing day. He is rarely wrong, so I rejigged my arrangements, and we were on the train about four o'clock heading for the Big Smoke.

He had a ball, for he so enjoys his Perth city outings with me. We did the usual things, and while I was sitting reading in the evening sun in Supreme Court Gardens as Bob planted himself on the grass some sixty feet away to eat his goodies, a full blood aboriginal man staggered over to talk with me. To overseas readers of this blog, full blood aboriginal folk in Perth city are rare sights, even in the entire South West, and I dare say, the South East of Australia.

I engaged him, and while his motive was clearly some small change to keep oiling his tonsils, poor fellow, he was soon fascinated by my questions and comments. We covered his blood clan out Warburton way in the desert, the rules and prohibitions of particular marriages, traditional music, bush tucker, Dreaming, and much more, with him giving me several – slurred – sentences in his tribal tongue.

And the intersection of coincidences struck me, for they happen uncannily so often in my life, with the fact that my short story I've been working on features a full blood aboriginal man I've named 'Gnamragan'.

Back home after 8, Janny was still entertaining The Dear Leader. I settled into the Player Recliner with tuck tuck and then had the pleasure of one Maine Coon who goes by the moniker 'Cadbury' going elastic upon my lap as I watched Aunty's lineup. Thus folk will cotton on to why I also now call that scrumptious piece of fluff that is my wife my Jayne Coon (Jayne is her real name).

Q&A was captivating, for Tony Jones had but one guest fronting his in-studio audience, former Prime Minister John Howard, and while it is unkind of those who say it was largely one continuous wank by Mr Howard, I can understand why they would say it. He was undoubtedly a successful Prime Minister, but he was not a great one. The three years out of office have evidently not yet added to his greatness quotient. He was merely successful.

I look for humility, willingness to admit errors, even serious ones, fallibility, exposure of warts within one's makeup, these kind of things as part of the features of a great person. Forgiveness of the hurtful failings of others, not taking oneself too seriously, aspirations higher than the sky grounded by pragmatism and balance, that kind of stuff. Neither for that matter was nor is former Prime Minister Kevin Rudd great: if from no other evidence, his resignation speech. Greatness is a very rare quality in politicians, in anyone for that matter. And I am not great either, far from it, but I recognise greatness when I encounter it.

Lateline: The (Leigh) Sales Graph: Wow Ms Sales brought us a fabulous interview with Barnaby Joyce tonight!

What an entertaining fellow this politician is. Never should he be let near a ministry, shadow or substantive, because he is a loose cannon who could keep an army of diplomats in overtime for a thousand years, but he is very useful as badly needed yeast in the political bowl.

Ms Sales obviously enjoyed herself, and it appeared she had dosed heavily on a dozen espressos before this interview, because she was on fire and shooting questions like a Gatling gun, but it worked, and Mr Joyce held his own. It's been many an interview since any ABC journalist got so many words in between a politician's ramblings.

To be fair to Mr Joyce, he expressed a great deal of wisdom, smattered as always with his unique brand of whackiness, more so than most politicians are prepared to or are capable of.

Now in my opinion Mr Joyce's analysis of the Murray-Darling Basin Plan's social and economic effects was inspired, especially his example of the repercussions for life-time working pensioners who have fully paid for their houses in those towns, as was his comeback to Ms Sales on the National Broadband Network. His remark "…and I want a Maserati, it's just a case of whether I can afford it. I mean, there's no doubt that people would love, you know, broadband and we want to deliver broadband, but you gotta cut the suit to fit the wearer." Brilliant comeback, regardless of the nitty gritty of the actual affordability for our nation.

+paytontedwithlove+