Close Encounters of the Prime Ministerial Kind

On the left, you can see a "Vote Saxon" badge, which is a geeky Doctor Who reference. I've been wearing my badge all week - since we got keen during the improv fest and made a bunch. If you've been watching Doctor Who, you'll get the Prime Ministerial reference. For those of you not really caring about nerdy sci-fi, you can instead pay attention to the object on the right.

That, my friends, is a genuine battery. A genuine battery from a genuine hearing aid. But not just anybody's hearing aid.

John Howard's hearing aid.

Our Once and Future Prime Minister has been in Brisbane for the past few days electioneering - ahem, I mean, releasing policy statements and conducting public and political consultation. On Friday he came into the 4BC/4BH studios to do interviews. Boy, there were a lot of people in suits just hanging around corridors that day. Anyway, as I walked past the 4BH studio to the newsroom (joking to myself that "Look! Mr Sheen's in the studio!"), a tech followed me in. And presented me with the above item.

Apparently Mr Howard had needed to replace his hearing aid battery, and had lost the old one on the floor while fiddling with the mechanism. Steve the tech said he had joked about the irony of the batteries being so small, especially because as you get older and lose your hearing, you also start losing your sight. Somehow Steve ended up with the discarded battery, and now it's in my possession.

Exactly what one does with a battery that once performed important work for the nation by nestling comfortably in our leader's left ear I'm yet to discover. Ebay was suggested, but rejected for fear of a) getting in trouble with work, and b) getting in trouble with the federal police. It's also possible nobody would believe it is what I claim it to be. It's even more possible - nay, likely - that nobody would actually see any value in such an item.

It's surprising how many Australians don't realise the PM wears a listening device - indeed, I only found out a couple of years ago. It's tiny, and only noticeable if you get within spitting distance of the PM. And if you do manage to get within spitting distance, there's probably a lot more things you'd prefer to do than gawp at his hearing aid. Spitting, for one.

Anyhoo, onto the next story. This morning I was awoken by the newsroom, and asked to go to a Prime Ministerial Media Conference at the Ballymore rugby ground. I agreed, as there's plenty of things one could ask the PM about at the moment (the indigenous abuse action plan, and as I would find out listening in the car, new terror threats in London), and found myself parking at the park at 8:40am. There didn't appear to be much happening, save a few beefy-looking rugby types indulging in some training. Physical exercise? Before noon? Honestly, I'll never understand athletes.

All of a sudden, a mass of suits poured out of a nearby admin building, and onto the field. There was the PM, right in the midst of it, bright and sparkly and shaking hands with the rugby boys. They turned to go back into the admin building, where I figured some announcement was coming. I raced back to my car to grab the camera for a quick shot. Unfortunately I only got backs:

As it turned out, the "media conference" was just the announcement of $25 million to build a national rugby academy at Ballymore. It was just an excuse for rounds of self-congratulatory backslaps amongst the private school boys' club that makes up rugby union's officiating elite. Bad gags abounded too. The PM at one point talked about the funding, and said, "I guess all I can say is my name is John Howard and I'm here to help!" - a play on Kevin Rudd's now famous address to the ALP conference earlier this year. It was all I could do not to groan (you may pick up I went to a rugby-playing private school).

I could have redeemed the morning by asking the PM some questions about other issues. But his hawk-like media girl, another extraordinarily snappily-dressed member of the Canberra press sec corps, told me he wasn't going to discuss anything else, and there might be a conference after the NT taskforce meeting later that day.

Bugger. I didn't blog about this earlier in the week, but I had gone to a Howard presser at Burpengary on Thursday, and had tried to ask a question just as he said "Thank you" and finished the conference. Regular readers to the Clumsy Chronicles will remember my earlier encounter with the PM at a lunch, where - despite screwing my courage to the sticking place - I had failed to ask him a question. So today marked THREE times that I have been unable to ask Mr Howard anything.

I did, however, follow him for a while after he left Ballymore. His special car was waiting outside:

You can see, if you squint, the "C-1" number plates, and the Australian flag on the bonnet. Tops. This was taken through the back window of my Corolla, as I idled 50 metres down the road.

As the procession took off, I followed, mostly because I was heading in the same direction, but also because I fancied myself a bit James Bond-y, and wondered if I followed them long enough would I get pulled over and questioned as to why I was stalking the Prime Minister.

They turned into Gregory Terrace, and followed it around to School Road, then onto Boundary Street, eventually making the turn right into Little Edward Street, and presumably heading into the city. What's weird is that my street bisects Gregory Terrace and Boundary Street. So the Prime Minister could have got to the city quicker had he TAKEN A SHORT CUT THROUGH MY STREET. We could have been within spitting distance.

Now that, my friends, is a genuine coinky-dink.

Zinga zing huh!

This is just the most excellent awesome-est news ever:


Ten years after Wannabe, the Spice Girls are doing a reunion tour.

I can't tell you how thrilled I am; I've already registered for tickets for their Sydney concert on January 17, 2008. Does that make me kinda sad? Screw it; I don't care. The Spice Girls rock! (Well, maybe not "rock". Maybe "pop". Anyway, their songs make me happy and make me want to dance. Yay for that!)

The Spice Girls represented many things to me as a 16-year-old - a sense of fun and playfulness, a love of giant shoes, but mostly the sense that you didn't have to be face-and-figure perfect to have a good time. And they were British, so even though they were "manufactured" (I'm sorry, but what band isn't, to some degree?), they had their own style. Remember, they were named Sporty, Posh, Ginger, Baby and Scary - based on the images they'd already developed.

Spice up your life!

And time!

May I just say how much I enjoyed the Briz Improv Fest?

It really was wonderful. Every show was a treat, and I think that's the best accomplishment for the organisers (which includes me I guess as publicity liaison).

I got to MC the opening Theatresports show, which was somewhat confused and wild, but an absolute buzz. It really set the scene for a great weekend. I then got to check out great stuff from the Wellington Improv Troupe (W.I.T.), Sydney soloist Rebecca de Unamuno, Melbourne's The Crew , Sydney's Twisted Melon, and Brisbane's own Jenny Wynter. The only show I missed was Edge Improv's Gorilla Theatre, because I was on front of house duty, but I heard great things about it nonetheless.

I finally got to perform in the Sunday night finale, "Best of the Fest". Amazingly, I made it to the final six in the knock-out round. Four of us were from Impro Mafia, and we were knocked out before the final game, which was contested between Kirra from Twisted Melon and Simon from W.I.T, with Kirra the eventual (and much-deserving) winner. I was so happy the night went well. Special thanks to everyone involved, Greg, his parents, my Mum and Bec for coming along to support me, and to Spencer Howson from ABC 612 coming along to be guest judge.

The weekend was most fun due to the rapport between the players. Greg and I especially enjoyed hosting Steven from W.I.T. at Chateau Clumsy - so much so we're going to head down to the Gold Coast later this week and meet up with Steve and some other W.I.T. members before they wrap up their vacation and head back across the Tasman. We spent Sunday afternoon making badges too - we're all now wearing "Vote Saxon" badges loudly and proudly.

I took some photos on Friday night (forgot my camera Saturday and Sunday, d'oh!), and I'll post them soon.

The festival may be over, but impro continues every Tuesday at the Stones Corner pub.

...In other big news this week - John Laws has announced his retirement. What does this mean for Southern Cross radio, and 4BC in particular? Mmm, only time will tell.

Briz Improv Fest!

Feeling a bit better now - having picked up some of the Twisted Melon crew from the airport, and welcomed our billet from the Wellington Improv Troupe (the excellently-Doctor-Who -obsessed-Steven), I'm now starting to get excited about the Briz Improv Fest, which kicks off TONIGHT!

Check out this fantastic piece on the ABC 612 website - what a great plug! Well done Wade, Michael and Jenny for a great interview on Richard Fidler's afternoon program.

I should point out also that ABC 612 breakfast host Spencer Howson will be judging the "Best of the Fest - Iron Improviser" show at 7:30pm Sunday 24 June. I shall be playing in this show. However, I'll be around all weekend taking in all the shows on offer - I will also be MC-ing the "Theatresports: Australia V the World" show tonight at 6:30pm.

Do get along and check out some shows. Performance details are on the website, and you can book through oztix.

Captain Whingey

One of my biggest vices is a propensity to whinge; and it's something I do all too often, to anyone who'll listen. Actually it's mostly to people who don't particularly want to listen, but don't want to be rude.

At the very least I try to keep it out of this blog, because hell, there's enough whiny bloggers out there without me jumping in. But I've had a crap morning, and I need to "blog" it out of my system. Please keep in mind though that my tiredness does influence rants like this.

I was sent to the Commonwealth Law Courts this morning to hear whether the High Court would grant Bradley Murdoch leave to appeal his conviction for the murder of Peter Falconio. First of all, my microphones were confiscated by security when I entered. There's a general understanding that you don't use recording devices in court - every other court I've been to knows that journos tend to respect that and let you through with your equipment. But not here. Anyway, I then asked an official at the information desk which court the hearing was in, as I didn't want to stuff up and go to the wrong one. She said "Level 7, Court 2". I took the elevator -surrounded by barristers in their antiquated robes and horsehair wigs - to Level 7, Court 2. I found a seat and waited for proceedings to begin. They did, but it wasn't Murdoch, it was a Northern Territory land rights disagreement. The newsroom had told me there were other matters on, so I simply tried to stay awake (a tough ask in the sleepy atmosphere of court) until Murdoch came on.

You may have spotted where this is heading.

At 10:25am, the judges announced a brief adjournment, and I left the courtroom. At that point, people started streaming out of Court 1. Media people that I recognised. Shit.

I was in the wrong court the whole time.

I felt completely incompetent. Thankfully the other journos passed on the details (the High Court denied Murdoch's leave to appeal, so he's behind bars for good now), so I was able to report back in to the office. I restricted my self-hate to a few internal tears before heading back down to reception to claim my microphones.

I had found the confiscation odd, but it only became reprehensible when the female security guard called another security guard down to "escort" me from the building. She wouldn't even hand me my mics until I had crossed through the exit door. Could NOT believe it. I felt like a freaking criminal. But not even a good criminal. An incompetent criminal.

I'm just a bit over work at the moment. My week-long holiday in Vanuatu coming up is very much needed - even if it does mean missing an advance screening of "Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix" at MovieWorld.

Hopefully the Briz Improv Fest this weekend will raise my spirits - it should be good to do something creative all weekend. Make sure you check out the website to see what shows are on. I'll be hanging around all weekend, and playing in the "Best of the Fest" show 7:30pm Sunday (special guest judge Spencer Howson from ABC 61p breakfast!)

You Are Not Alone...

Goodness...

I'm still getting over last night's episode of Doctor Who, "Utopia".

Oh, but it was good. So good. Marvellous, in fact. Abso-bloody-lutely marvellous. Awesome. Spectacular. Delicious.

(Yes, I have been looking up the thesaurus, thanks for asking)

I love Derek Jacobi far too much. He rocks my world. And as for John Simm... so good. David Tennant and Frema Ageyman, fabulous as usual. The Doctor - so cold! So nasty! Martha - so warm! So friendly! And as for Captain Jack - welcome back, Mr Barrowman. We've missed your innuendo. In YOUR endo, if you get my drift.

I don't really want to say too much more, in case I spoil it for anyone. Still, I don't think knowing the story can take away too much from the actual viewing - the episode is executedly so expertly, with such suberb acting and great plotting, that it will no doubt leave you breathless, no matter how much you know beforehand.

As much as I love Doctor Who myself (and I really do), there's nothing quite like the special kind of joy it inspires in Greg. His emotional rollercoaster ride is something to watch. ;)

The only problem is now we've got to wait TWO weeks to watch the final two episodes. We agreed to this as Luke is off on a school ski trip, and the fiend and I will be busy with the Briz Improv Fest next Sunday night (which you should all come to, by the way). So the first of July is going to be a BIG night. A HUGE night.

Vote Saxon!

Pleading the fifth...

...9am today. State Executive Building.

Five in a row. That's it, Beattie, you officially love the media gallery too much. ;)

My presence being required at 100 George Street necessitated my absence from a photo shoot with City News for the Briz Improv Fest, which I'd organised. Ah well, no skiving off work for me. Still, there were more than enough keen improvisers in attendance, and in fact three of them missed out on getting their pics taken. Whoops! At least they can't say I was under-prepared.

The festival itself starts next Friday 22 June - my goodness, where did all that time go? However, we've still managed to get the word out a bit, so here are some things to keep an eye out for:

• Sunday Mail "IE" section - interview with Rebecca de Unamuno and pics
• City News - pics
• Big Weird podcast - interview with Jenny Wynter
• 4BC - me blatantly plugging the festival during my movie review segment, Wednesday 2:30pm on 1116AM. Ticket giveaways!
  
• 4ZZZ - impro hour with Jenny & visiting performers. Friday 22 June from 4pm on "The Frog and Peach" show. Again, more ticket giveaways!
  

Ummm... what else can I mention? Oh yeah! Life on Mars rocks - Greg and I have just finished watching this great BBC show, and we are officially in the Gene Hunt fan club (that's a quote of his currently on the GirlClumsy masthead). I'm also loving the work of John Simm, who played the central character in Life on Mars, and will be shortly taking pride of place in Season Three of Doctor Who. Will he be the master of his own domain? (Ahem, ahem!) Last week's Doctor Who fan night almost ended in tears when Luke and the fiend got into an argument over which of the current series' is the best. Seriously, it was almost nerdicuffs.

As you might have noticed, El Rancho de Chateau Clumsy is a very geeky place to be.

Five in a row?

I have been to a media conference with Our Esteemed Leader every day this week so far.

• Monday - Bundamba Wastewater Treatment Plant. Hard hat, fluro orange vest & ill-fitting steel cap boots. The Premier and Deputy talk up the water grid.
• Tuesday - State Executive Building. Origin Energy announces a new gas-fired power station for the Darling Downs.
• Wednesday - Skilled Stadium, Robina. Hard hat, fluro orange vest. Lots of shaking hands with construction workers as the stadium roof starts going on.
• Thursday - Red Chamber, Parliament House. The launch of Green Cross Australia, the environmental lobby headed by the man with the world's most famous birthmark, Mikhail Gorbachev.

He gets around, our Premier. But the question now is: will he hold a media conference tomorrow? Will our misadventurous GirlClumsy make it five in a row with Premier Pete?

Stay tuned...

A Day at the Budget

Everybody has a budget. Including Queensland. This Tuesday gone, I had the great - erm - pleasure of being assigned to cover the handing down of the Beattie government's 10th "financial blueprint".

It turned out to be a somewhat embarrassing day - if you read my previous post you'd know Deputy Premier and Treasurer Anna Bligh knocked over my microphone, and I was stuck at a table behind journos and cameras unable to retrieve and right it. Luckily I had brought my camera along, so I am now able to present to you the whole story - in pictures!


This is the media room, which is just off the gallery level of the parliamentary chamber. It's quite old. You can picture hard-nosed, chain-smoking political journos crashing away at typewriters, only opening their mouths long enough to shove in another Marlboro. Sometimes you can even smell the old cigarette smoke.



This is my official work station. It's in a small cubby-like area, just beyond the gallery door. I share this cubby with the AAP journo, and we take it in turns to get angry at our respective computers (mine's a laptop, you can see my giant satchel bag in the foreground).

It may not look that organised, but believe me, there's a very complex system in operation here. No, really.


Inside the hothouse that is budget lock-up. Lock-up gives the impression there'll be alcohol, doesn't it? Sadly, coffee and crustless sandwiches were our only sustenance. I think the three smartly-dressed folks in the foreground are QUT students. I know that because they're always dressed better than me.

Her Bligh-ness! After two hours of reading and thoughtful consideration of the government's economic data ("what does 'expenditure'? mean again?"), Peter Beattie and Anna Bligh grace us with a lock-up media conference. I am currently sitting behind the giant stack of budget documents. It is while I am farting about taking these photos that Ms Bligh knocks my mic over. Premier Pete is being concealed by journalists in this shot.

Here you can see two interesting things. The first is my mic, resting horizontally on the little side-table, where Premier Pete put it because I couldn't get out from behind my table to fix it.

The second is the large brown blur in the bottom left-hand corner. That is in fact the head of Channel Nine political reporter Spencer Jolly. Spencer was sitting next to me during lock-up. When I said excitedly "Hello, Spencer, this is my first budget!", he replied, "God bless you", and proceeded to give me some good advice about finding useful information amongst the giant stack. Thanks, Spencer!

After this I headed back to my cubby to begin the long afternoon slog of churning out budget stories. Hence the lack of photographic action from this time on. The budget itself was handed down in parliament at 2:30pm, so thanks to the lock-up - and Spencer Jolly's advice - I was able to get enough of a handle on things before official reporting could begin from 3pm (all information in the budget is embargoed until it's tabled in the house).

Radio is challenging when it comes to budgets, as you obviously can't include everything, and you have to think about keeping the listeners' interested in what could potentially be "boring political stuff". Still, I felt fairly confident with my budget work - and the best reward was coming home to find Greg had cooked me an lovely spaghetti bolognese. He's actually been cooking for me all week while I've been at parliament, which has been just amazing. All I do is sit on my butt all day listening to politicians rabbit on, but I couldn't be more exhausted had I just scaled Mt Everest on ice-skates while giving Kim Beazley a piggyback. Now that's tired.

Cannot. Believe. It.

Oh, this is just embarrassing…

I’m currently blogging at you from INSIDE the Queensland government budget lock-up. This could very likely be illegal. Or at the very least against protocol.

Anyway, I managed to borrow some gaffe tape to secure my mic to the podium, but what happens, ten minutes into Anna Bligh's media conference in front of the entire press pack?

My mic falls over.

I’m stuck at a table behind various journos, cameramen and camera stands, so it was left to our Esteemed Leader Premier Pete to pick the mic up and place it on a little side stand. It’s probably not even on any more – it has a tendency to switch off..

Goddamn, that’s embarrassing. I hadn’t even realized – I was too busy trying to take surreptitious photos for this blog. So stay tuned, exciting photo essay coming up when the day’s slog at budget figures is over!!!