CHICAGO: "Didn't the city of big shoulders, after but 100 years, produce its most valuable output, putting it on the cosmic map?" ponders PLInkletter.

Be all that as it may, meanwhile:

'In other news…'

12^th August 2010

Thursday: The highlight of the day was the visit for din dins by The Babies Ink&Peggletter, the lowlight was learning from Mum by phone that my cousin Vee's throat cancer, some years younger than me, not even fifty yet, has returned to his lung and spine. He has never been a smoker. Early last year he had major surgery to remove the growth from his throat, necessitating the cutting in half of his jaw bone and teeth removal. We had high hopes that his recovery would be smooth. He has a wife and two young children.

Mum also let me know that my sister Mary is recovering fine from her bashing and robbing of the other day. I couldn't reach her by phone today, so I'll try again tomorrow.

It kept raining today, which makes me most happy. The Dear Leader joined us all for our dinner, which Missus Inkletter made to a Mexican theme, burritos, if that's what they're called, maybe fajitas – it's all Greek to me. They were delicious, I can vouch for that.

We played Drakon, the first time for we wrinklies, and it was fun, and long, and I kept getting a hammering from everyone. Baby Peggletter won, when I was confident I was going to. I counted my chickens too early.

If you care to google Drakon and select 'images', you'll notice the pieces are light grey. Ours were the most intricately coloured, so much so that I automatically assumed they came that way. I am in awe of what I learned: Baby Peggletter painted the pieces, and the fineness and richness of the work gobsmacks me and my good wife. He must have used a single hair for a brush. I must take a good photo when next they visit with the game and post it here so you can all admire his work.

Lateline: The (Leigh) Sales Graph: Ms Sales chose but a teal green slub weave jacket, and it complemented her hair and skin superbly. She wore the finest of necklace with a single tiny pearl, with matching earrings, subtle effect make-up, and lovely convex flared loose hanging hair style, plus a red shade varnish on her fingernails. The effect could not have been improved; see what your eyes tell you:

This combination works so well for Leigh Sales

She had a curious fellow on for her long interview, one Jay Rosen, Professor of Journalism at New York University, who went very casual in a dark jacket and blue tee shirt. I won't criticise him for this (as I have been known to, laying the boots into people for not dressing with sufficient professional measure to their subject), due to the strange way I feel about the interview. I must explain:

Professor Jay Rosen went casual for his laid back  approach to his interview with Ms Sales

Professor Rosen made some very accurate, pertinent, and interesting points during the interview, and full marks for his coining of the term 'horse race journalism' to critique the type of election coverage suffered in U.S. elections at least, and increasingly as it transpired from the discussion with Ms Sales, in our own.

His remark "…if we can't rely on our professional journalists to make the important interesting, whose job is it?" saved the whole interview though.

I am reluctant to criticise the Professor, because he said so much that was so good, but maybe it was the way he said it, I'm just not sure, but despite Ms Sales' generosity of approach to him (she was, well, if not long suffering, validating in places where awkward doubt dwelt), his low key approach failed to excite me, and this from a fellow (moi) who doesn't put much store in excitement in matters serious.

Ms Sales' generosity was evident, and somewhat necessary, in this interview

Put it this way, I think this particular interview would have been ten times more grabbing if the roles had been reversed, and Leigh Sales was the one being asked the questions. I find it a little strange to be expressing my lack of engagement with the professor in this way, but there, I have. Ms Sales would have left us in no doubt that she is alive with zest and passion as she tackled the questions, but somehow Professor Rosen brought a lullaby quality to his answers. Ms Sales also is very much across the latest and widely used media communication methods, and I wouldn't be the least bit surprised if she could do the professor's job back at NYU.

I went again for a late late walk in a break from the rain, and the very moment I returned, sans umbrella, it began to rain again.

+paytontedwithlove+

KUES: "The heart of the matter is that he somehow had an insight into the great ellipse of eternity and infinity; not shortsighted," says PLInkletter.

Be all that as it may, meanwhile:

'In other news…'

12^th August 2010

Wednesday: It's started to rain again at last!

On Monday evening, speaking with my mum by phone, I asked how my sister Mary was. Mum said not so good, but couldn't divulge why. I now know why…

Mum must not have had permission to tell others then, but late this evening (after midnight to be precise) when I checked my email, I got an awful shock: my sister had been cycling around the Perth riverfront. I'll let my niece Alice, who is Mary's daughter and who emailed me, say it in her words, which are in the form of a warning to her email contacts about the dangers of entering a public toilet alone:

"URGENT PLEASE READ – especially if you exercise in South Perth or around the Swan River.

Pls be aware of what happened on Monday of this week to my darling mum - who has never hurt anyone in her life (except me when I needed a few smacks as a child! I needed them!!)

My Mum went for a bike ride at 1630 around the river in South Perth and stopped to use the ablutions at the Mends St Jetty. She was met in the cubicle by a man and woman. The man punched her to the ground and knocked out teeth, while the woman frisked her clothing for money. My mum only had $10 in her pocket.

As my mum is a ‘baby boomer’ – she asked for no help and even though she had put out her hip with the fall, she walked her push-bike from South Perth to East Victoria Park (9 kilometres) and arrived home where my sister Elizabeth found her bruised, battered and bleeding.

Mum’s photo is attached (she did not want me to take it as she didn’t want people to think I had an ‘ugly mum’). I told her I had to warn others, so it wouldn’t happen to anyone else I cared about (you reading this).

Please spread this story to everyone as the key message is DO NOT LET ANYONE YOU LOVE GO INTO A PUBLIC TOILET ALONE IN PERTH.

The offenders have not been caught and are still ‘out there’.

Rgds

Alice"

The photo Alice attached shows my dear sister, who is the most generous and loving soul, with a bruised and broken skinned face, and I can't contact her at this hour of night. She is 57, and doesn't need this kind of treatment.

It would be easy for me to despise the perpetrators, but I have already asked the the real power that be to rehabilitate the pair who have sunk this low, to bring them to want to make amends for this and whatever else similar they might have done in their lives, to turn around and flow with the stream of the divine economy, for the sake of their happiness and all whom they get involved with. I despise what they did, but wish for them a transformation. But don't presume from what I've just said that I disaprove of punishment; not at all: I agree with punishment to fit the crime, as decided upon by the society in which the crime takes place.

I am also grateful it wasn't far worse.

*

I was most impressed with the rags Simon Crean, our federal Education Minister, chose to wear on tonight's Education Debate on THE 7.30 REPORT anchored by Kerry O'Brien. He managed to make a spotted tie work really well with a striped shirt!

You've got to hand it to Simon Crean, making a spotted tie work with a striped shirt!

Now I do think it's unfair of those who also say he did well not to gag, having to debate arguably the most odious federal politician in Australia, Christopher Pyne. If I have any time for these blunt folk's assessments, it's more with the behaviour and attitude of the polly, and note that he could improve his demeanour to become a top bloke, given almost a miracle (they do happen).

Very late, really late, about half four, I went for a half hour walk in the steady and gentle rain, with an umbrella. It was magnificent, refreshing, peaceful, cleansing. Now for all the antiantipodeans among my billions of readers, rain is an increasingly scarce phenomenon in Perth, and in winter it usually means the temperature rises when rain comes, so it's not as bad as it might sound.

+paytontedwithlove+

SNAKE RANGE: "Prometheus fell that a man could count to 5000," bristled PLInkletter, missing solace, clawing at icy rocks, oh no match for metal teeth

Be all that as it may, meanwhile:

'In other news…'

06^th August 2010

Friday: Yes, another blurring of night and day. Despite fighting with sleep 'last night before midnight', it was almost midday 'today' before Mistress Nodette welcomed me into her warm and safe embrace.

Monday last week Missus Inkletter left me…

Tomorrow she is coming back…

Well, I'm picking her up from Safety Bay, where Margie Kismikkin will be bringing her from Balingup, where she has just enjoyed a break of 12 days in paradise.

She will immediately be engulfed in a whirlwind of demands upon her time and energy by certain folk, when what she could do with is freedom for a while. Such is the poor woman's lot.

Before retiring for Thursday this late Friday morning, I phoned Mum to enquire how she is faring after the at-least-twenty-odd-stitches cut behind her ear from the local anaesthetic surgery she had on Monday, when I took her to the skin specialist appointment in Ardross. Finally the pain is almost gone, and she answered the door to Silver Chain while on the phone to me, for her third change of dressing by these good professionals. I was most relieved when we were able to have arranged visits from them for my 79 year old frail mother, particularly as the cut was so huge, perhaps two inches long from the back of the ear lobe down the neck.

The preparation for the removal of a basal cell carcinoma from behind her right ear involved two syringes of anaesthetic and at least twenty punctures along the textered outline. This hurt Mum a great deal. When the surgeon left to attend to other matters while it kicked in, I held Mum's hand as she lay on the bench, with tears in her eyes.

She later told me that she wanted her mother while suffering the sting and shock of those needle pricks. Dear Nanna, born in 1900, who died a month before our daughter was born in '84, was the most wonderful woman around. Mum wanted her mum, dead for 26 years, to comfort her. A mother's love has no replacement.

So I did eventually retire, surfacing around five, and I scrambled to wake myself up, and take The Dear Leader to the local shops, where I bought him a halal chicken meal, not because he requires halal, but because our local Chooks is a halal establishment. I brought him back to our place and we two lads ate together and watched The Collectors followed by an arresting SBS documentary called Doctors of Death.

After that light note, I returned him to his place. Back to our place, own my ownsome, with Missus Inkletter coming back to me tomorrow, or rather, I'll be picking her up. She is coming to Safety Bay (as I have mentioned) with her Balingup hostess, Margie, who has an outing to go to. Thus, while I miss out on a trip to the beautiful region that Balingup nestles in, it saves us a very long trip.

Lateline: The (Leigh) Sales Graph: Her choices of couture resulted in a professional and fresh look, her dark fine striped sharp vee neckline jacket being effective simplicity itself, a small modesty panel provided by her underbodice of light grey, no jewellery but for short dangling gold earrings (plus wedding ring, there of course to signify blissful bondage rather than adornment), subtle effect make-up, and a most appealing Sandra Dee look hair style, Ms Sales' only way to look a tad more stunning tonight would be to have had a darker shade of grey for her modesty panel, as it was borderline too light against her redhead's white skin decolletage area. (Readers of old know my aversion to exposed camisoles that are hard to distinguish from the woman's skin; contrast, possums, where contrast is best.)

Leigh Sales could not possibly be talking to a politician with a smile like this

By the way, what a good sport Ms Sales was Wednesday night in her cameo role on Yes We Canberra! I suspect we have a budding actress in this capable journalist, and I'm not joking: she played the role of a sneaky limelight-stealer from Tony Jones, her fellow LATELINE anchor, just right, making the whole simple and harmless idea very entertaining.

Peter Hartcher was her first interview, and it was about tomorrow's published Fairfax Media election opinion poll. He was smartly dressed, but his shirt collar was oddly high above his jacket; see what you think:

Peter Hartcher's pleasant voice would be ideal for an audio book: listen to him if you get the chance

Ms Sales' next guests were Tony Burke the Sustainable Population Minister, in-studio, and on-screen from Melbourne Opposition Environment Spokesman Greg Hunt. The interview was as predictable as they come, no fault of Ms Sales, with Greg Hunt being the more hyperbolic, surprise surprise.

Tony Burke defending his Government come what may…

The lads looked smart, with Mr Burke sporting a near Payne's grey suit and white shirt combo, set off with a broad striped thistle and eggplant tie, while Mr Hunt chose an arsenic subtle and wide pinstriped suit with self-striped white shirt plus a beautiful iris stripes on Alice blue tie.

Greg Hunt attacking the Government come what may…

The most memorable line for me from this interview came from Mr Burke as a reply to Mr Hunt's assertion "…His (Tony Abbott) views have been known for a decade and a half. His conviction is incredibly strong…"

Mr Burke: "…Tony Abbott's campaigning on being everything other than the convictions that he holds..." and then he listed several of these dichotomies.

Mr Hunt showed that he's as hypocritical a politician as the best of them when he listed the ways in which the billions of dollars of Labor's wasted spending could have been spent (I'm not arguing the waste here), including curing "avoidable Indigenous blindness in this country", giving "hundreds of thousands of seniors and pensioners dental care": I recall John Howard cutting a couple of hundred million dollars or so from a low income dental health scheme, and I also recall his government spending untold hundreds of millions of dollars of taxpayers' money on partisan advertising, which could have gone to some wonderful and better causes.

It was a relief when these predictable politicians were through!

Thank god for Stephen Long: The (Stephen) Long and Short of It: Looking smartly attired for his 3 ¼ minutes of glory, Mr Long achieved this with a suit that I'm not able to call correctly, maybe a dark Prussian blue, but so commanding with its subtle and fine pinstripes, a white shirt, and a blond tie with interesting brown stripes within white stripes (of course, I would not be the least bit surprised to learn that any of my calls on colours and textures, from my computer screen, prove to be way off the mark in the flesh). And NO GLASSES.

Stephen Long shares a moment of humorous pity with Leigh Sales for the two pollies who had just insulted all of our collective intelligence in the previous interview

Which leads me to the poll to be found over at The Abecedarian Project:

Should the ABC's STEPHEN LONG ditch his glasses?

This question has divided the world thus far: one million have said YES; one million have said NO; and nine million have chosen other options, including a million saying: He's really trying to crack on to Leigh Sales; another million asking: Any shots of his chest hair?; and a million saying: He can tweak my digits any day!; Stephen's Mum and 999,999 others weighed in with: Back off you cougars, he's my sweet and lovely boy!

An overseas commenter, one Gladys Hobson, writer, said "To be honest, I think that guy is incredibly handsome. The glasses photograph is a BAD one, he does not look the same guy at all. On the non-glasses photograph there is a gentleness about his looks. Yes, I could trust my daughter with him (if I had one)…"

To the detail of Mr Long's answers to Ms Sales' questions:

More story coming…

+paytontedwithlove+

WAPAKONETA: "That dropped syllable will one day be found in the moondust," PLInkletter predicts, "but it didn't faze 450million transfixed listeners."

Be all that as it may, meanwhile:

'In other news…'

05^th August 2010

Thursday: It was touch and go, and if I could have fallen back asleep, after my alarm rudely interrupted a badly needed sleep from going anywhere near the proper distance, I would have skipped my tentative plan to contact Bob's crew to see if he wanted to go swimming in lieu of yesterday's cancellation by me.

But I couldn't, so after phoning Bob's minders, I dragged myself together and got myself over to Guildford at the absurdly early time of half three in the afternoon. We went for a riverside walk from Ray Marshall Park to the Midland Brick boundary of Reg Bond Park, in idyllic conditions hovering close to rain but not quite managing the heavenly tears, before arriving at a not busy Swan Aquatic. By the way, don't tell anyone how superb a walk the riverside is between Woodbridge and Viveash twixt the two parks just mentioned, lest millions descend there and churn it into dust. (This weekend the Avon Descenters will be spluttering along there in the trickle that is the Swan this winter.)

And so I suffered headache sans white comforters, and when I finally got home after 8 p.m. I ate and was so tired I couldn't drag myself up from the Player recliner to get myself a badly needed handful of white comforters to dull the pain. And so I watched Aunty in somewhat of a daze, in and out of a fraught sleep, and without gorgeous Cadbury on my lap, for she was outside learning that she mustn't turn her nose up at her wholly mackerell meal as a ploy to get her preferred buscuits. Left to the little devil-cherub's own devices, she'd exclusively eat cat biscuits.

Lateline: The (Tony) SilverToes aka Tojo (Jones) Assay: Looking magnificently turned out as he always does, Tony Jones interviewed Mark Aarons tonight, also an image of sartorial splendour (though subdued), about the machinations of the NSW Labor right faction, who dispatched former Prime Minister Kevin Rudd with ruthless efficiency recently.

Our Tony Jones doing Aunty proud by looking superb as usual…

My favourite line from this interview is Mark Aarons' 'toga-wearing assassins' in reference to the lads who arranged Kevin Rudd's knifing.

Mark Aarons has a cultured voice; listen to tonight's interview for proof

Congratulations to the LATELINE BUSINESS team for the zing and punch now permeating the whole production, and my how WOWING Ticky Fullerton, the anchor, is looking after the makeover the revamped show has applied! The males (of red-blood) who work at the Ultimo studios must be battling to concentrate on their duties with all these gorgeous women around.

Ticky Fullerton's new hair style is hitting the mark

I rallied in the wee small hours of the night, and did some comment postings here and there to blogs. I found a heart rending blog documenting the loss by a couple, Audra and Michael from Ridgewood New Jersey, of their infant daughter to cancer, little Sylvie Hughes, and for whom Chantal Kreviazuk wrote 'Princess Sylvie'. You can read about their ordeal here.

+paytontedwithlove+

MURALTO: "Sure, cocaine was his first love," noted PLInkletter, "but he coloured up around flowers, he always had his greens, he respected alkaloids."

Be all that as it may, meanwhile:

'In other news…'

03^rd August 2010

Tuesday: Another summer's day – in midwinter! – with not a lot of prospect yet for heavy rain to make up for the seriously below average year we're having. I was at Mundaring Weir with the Babies Ink&Peggletter on Sunday, who were giving me a day out at various activities for my recent birthday, and the water level is dismally low.

I took The Dear Leader to the local major shopping centre late today, and we each scurried our various ways till closing time.

I managed to have a couple of chats by phone with Missus Inkletter, still on holiday at Balingup, and she noted it will shortly be back to the grind that is her lot here in the Big Smoke, poor thaing.

I had a big Aunty night, starting with Kerry O'Brien trying hard and fruitlessly to find the real Julia Gillard inside the Prime Minister on The 7.30 Report.

I was spellbound later watching the five bookends on First Tuesday Book Club, being Jennifer Byrne, Marieke Hardy, Jason Steger, Richard Flanagan, and Jane Gleeson-White discussing Leo Tolstoy's novel Anna Karenina: rarely have I witnessed the entire cast so unanimously gripped by what they've read.

Poor Leigh Sales! She had to interview yet another consummate politician, and by 'consummate' I don't mean anything other than being expert at the ducking and weaving of politics, this one a male, he being her LATELINE guest, none other than Deputy Prime Minister and Treasurer Wayne Swan. The (Leigh) Sales Graph: Ms Sales looked remarkably good in the simplest of attire, her sapphire blue long sleeved shirt being the centrepoint, with only the tiniest of earrings as jewellery, lovely convex flaring strawberry blond hair, and subtle effect make-up, except let me make one caveat: Ms Sales' eyeliner and mascara were just inside the high end of a shade of darkness that still enhances rather than detracts.

Few can look so good with the simplest of presentation, and have the wherewithal to present quality television journalism live

Let me give but a few words of explanation: women with light skin have to be careful with dark eyeliners and mascara, and all the more so if they also have light coloured hair. All too often such women overdo the darkening of their eye make-up effects. Of course, brown and darker skins don't have the same degree of such constraints, nor the darker hair shades. The risk the lighter haired and skinned women run is to make their eyes look almost disconnected to their faces by overdoing the darkness of their outlines. Erring on the side of less is the better policy for such femmes.

Wayne Swan looked as immaculate as he always does, choosing a conservative dark suit and white shirt combo, but jazzing the rags up a bit with a zingy white striped blue tie.

If only all of Deputy Prime Minister Wayne Swan's spiel tonight was as believable as his attire was spiffy…

Now it was pure 'Yes Minister' when Ms Sales tried to get an honest answer from Mr Swan regarding Prime Minister Julia Gillard's change of mind on a second and third debate with Tony Abbott this election campaign. Mr Swan rewrote history, non-sequitured, obfuscated, and even touched his nose at a most interesting moment, all during his obvious discomfort at saying one thing while believing and understanding another. The hypocrisy of our political leaders is breathtaking. I would have preferred Mr Swan to say "Yes, we want the extra debates now because we're in trouble." He would be telling the truth, and would that be the end of the world for him? Some politicians have risen high in the citizenry's estimation by calling it as it is. And imagine if he then said "And we made a mistake when we knocked back Abbott's offer to have the extra debates when he proposed them." Whoa! A low flying pig almost hit me!

+paytontedwithlove+