Most people I know...

Is it just me or is everyone sorry they missed the greatest era of Australian rock music?
Billy Thorpe passed away overnight, apparently he woke suffering chest pains around one thirty am, his wife Lyn called an ambulance and he was taken to Sydney's St Vincent's Hospital. An hour later, while being treated in emergency, he suffered a massive heart attack and passed away.
Billy Thorpe was born in England but migrated with his family first to Melbourne then to Brisbane in the 1950s.He got his start on TV in Brisbane at the age of ten – and I guess it set him on his career path. He was probably the only ten year old in Australia who got to see Johnny O’Keefe, Little Richard, Jerry Lee Lewis and Chuck Berry play live in the studio.

He was incredibly ambitious and at the age of 16 he moved to Sydney – against his parents wishes and auditioned for a surf band called ‘the Azetcs’ that played at the infamous ‘surf city’ in the cross.

The bands' popularity grew beyond all conceivable proportions. In 1964 "Billy Thorpe and the Aztecs" not only had 4 singles in the top twenty at the same time but that same year Billy and the band out drew the Beatles in Melbourne with a phenomenal 60,000 people to the Myer Music Bowl for one show. The Beatles drew 50,000 people over two shows in the same city at the same time.Billy and the Aztecs went on to win every major music, radio and television award in the country. They broke every sales and attendance record, and established themselves as one of Australia’s all time most popular bands.

Billy Thorpe has written two biographies…I particularly loved the first – Sex Thugs and Rock n Roll. There’s a great story about the 1972 Moomba Festival.

Billy Thorpe and the Aztecs were banned from Moomba, so they staged a rival event at the Myer Music Bowl. Legend has it 250 thousand people tried to attend…the police eventually had to shut the streets and Moomba was swamped. Billy was unrepentant. “Their idea of catering to the young audience was to crown Johnny Farnham ‘King of Pop’ and cart him around the city on a float. When we asked if we could play at a show during the festival they just laughed at us, so we decide to do our own show at the Myer Music Bowl and blew the bloody Moomba festival away”.

The Sunbury Pop festival is on the map because of Billy Thorpe.

These are all great stories in the book by the way…

It was a pretty tough time in rock and roll history, very violent and lots of drugs too.

In his books Billy is pretty honest about the drugs. At one stage Billy moved to LA. For two weeks he lay chained to a bed in a mental health facility, with no idea who he was or what he was doing there. A really sad time in his life…

Billy Thorpe has had about three careers. He apparently just finished recording a new album. He played his last gig on Sunday night at San Remo, Victoria.

I loved Billy Thorpe – you’ve got to read his books – particularly sex thugs and rock and roll…

Billy Thorpe is survived wife Lyn and two daughters, Rusty and Lauren.

Pay attention kids!

Is it just me or was everyone seriously disturbed to see the front page of the Sunshine Coast Daily today?

Suzanne Bournes is grieving the loss of her 23 year old son Bradley.

Earlier this month, 23 year old Bradley hanged himself from a tree in Ben Bennett Park, Caloundra.

It’s known that a group of high school students found his body on their way to school. Bradley had tied a note to his family around his neck.

It’s also now known that sometime before Bradley was taken down from the tree, someone took a photo of him. That gruesome photo has made its way to a hideous website, dedicated to death and mutilation.

Bradley’s mother Suzanne is devastated. That’s her baby in that photo.

The internet is new ground for humans isn’t it? You can get away with just about anything on the net. The police have admitted that while they are investigating the publication of the photo of Bradley – and make no mistake, it is illegal for people to use technology to transfer this type of information – this particular website is international and it’s origin is very hard to trace.

Millions of people are on the internet every day. Most of them use that privilege for good. And I mean it. Surely 98 per cent of people are just happy to exchange useful information, access the world and meet new people. The other two per cent need to take a good hard look at them selves.

My son is constantly on my space, I think most teenagers are. But I don’t know much about it. I honestly don’t have the patience to find stuff on it to be honest, whenever I look over his shoulder it looks pretty mundane, but all the same, he and I need to have a talk.

The internet might feel like TV. As parents, my generation, who have let our kids watch a lot of TV, most of it pretty abysmal, might have to accept responsibility for how desensitised some young people appear to be about what death and grief really means. But even if it is our fault, it’s time for young people to pay attention.

Bradley Bournes was a real person.

Something terrible drove him to take his own life. That is not sport and it is not entertainment.

The Stand By Suicide Bereavement Service 5442 4277

For kids, try www.reachout.com.au

Where is Daniel?

Is it just me or does everyone think Bruce and Denise Morcombe are carrying the heaviest cross any parent can be asked to bear?

The brave pair are on Australian Story tonight, telling their story again, trying again to find answers about their missing boy, Daniel.

It will be a compelling show. In the weekend press Denise admitted she has struggled with alcohol in the three years since Daniel disappeared, falling into the trap of just trying to dull the pain.

I think she’s a brave woman to tell that story and a very strong person to break that habit.

Publicising their story is how they keep the public looking for clues in the hunt for Daniel.

The Morcombes say late last year they were contacted by a woman who claims to have been in the car with those responsible for abducting Daniel.

Bruce told Australian Story that the unnamed woman, troubled by her conscience, claimed to know how long 13-year-old Daniel lived after being kidnapped and what he was forced to endure.

She claimed to have been in the car with those responsible for the abduction and told the Morcombes where to find their son.

On tonight's program the Morcombe’s reveal that when they dug at the site nominated by the caller, they found a piece of faded red material. Daniel was wearing a red t shirt the day he disappeared.

Bruce says throughout the investigation, the same names have continued to surface – he says there is a pedophile link to a Mooloolaba unit - there a claims that a quite elderly man is willing to pay drug addicts cash if they supply him with young boys.

But that’s where the trail goes cold.

The Queensland Government has offered a reward of $250,000 for information about the fate of Daniel.

Also this weekend, there’s a formal red tie fundraiser for Daniel at Twin Waters. Country stars Beccy Cole and James Blundell are the entertainment…for tickets, go to www.danielmorcombe.com.au

What is the point. exactly?

Is it just me or did everyone read the claim that marijuana is being rejected by young people as ‘unacceptable’ and wonder what the point was?

The media gleefully reported that young people view today’s chemical laden cannabis as dangerous, addictive and a gateway to harder drugs. Thank goodness there’s plenty of ICE around, I’d hate to think our young people had forgotten how to party!

ICE is a cheap and nasty methamphetamine. One in ten Australian’s over the age of 14 have tried it. 73 thousand young people are considered regular users. I hadn’t even heard of it a year ago.

In Sydney at the weekend a 20 year old dance teacher died after taking the drug PMA, better known as Red Mitsubishi or Red death. 10 years ago, PMA killed 11 South Australians in 12 months. Apparently, it’s back on the market.

And then, according to the National Drug and Alcohol Research Centre, there’s good old booze.

About 1500 young people die every year from drug related causes, more than half of them are due to alcohol.

Good to know they’re off the scoobies though.

Family Drug Support: 1300368186

I loved to see the tiny feet of baby Amillia Taylor, born in Miami after just 21 weeks gestation.
As always, her birth raised the premmie baby question, is it worth it?
About half our premmie babies suffer problems with thinking, hearing, walking talking or seeing. The future for Amillia is still unknown.

But did you also know that almost all the premmie babies who are now grown ups report better health outcomes than doctors predicted?

It’s true neo natal health isn’t cheap. It costs around $2000 per baby per day, which is a little less than adult coronary care, kidney dialysis or organ transplant.

I have an aunt who couldn’t have any children because she couldn’t carry them to term. If the babies she buried were born today, they would probably be alive and well.

Life is precious, and I think premmie babies are worth every cent.



This week sees the end of an era at the Sunshine Coast Radio Centre.

After nine years together at Mix FM, 18 years together in radio (on and off), my husband leaves me to fend for myself. John and I met at radio school in 1988. He wooed me (partly) by doing most of my assignments. In the ensuing years he’s been the only boss I’ve ever had willing to drop my mobile phone/wallet/feminine hygene products into the studio, when I forget to bring them to work. I’m really going to miss him.

He’s leaving Mix to become General Manager of Kook Multimedia. He assures me if you have a business then you need to talk to him. Try http://www.kook.com.au/ I know internet technology can do a lot of things, I’m not sure if it can drop off your purse though!

And since I’m obviously in the business of family plugs, John’s sister Sue is on the lookout for some missing Nambourians.

Sue works at the Queensland Institute of Medical Research and she’s asked me to round up four hundred people who’ve gone AWOL from the 20 year Nambour Skin Cancer Study.

This is the last year of the study, QIMR has sent out letters to the 600 participants trying to set up some March meetings. Only 200 have replied.

I certainly hope you people haven’t been at the beach!

And news just in, an international superstar has announced she is definitely not going into rehab.

Despite low sales of her latest album, poor box office attendance and a very public break up, the star has decided to keep her hair and her knickers firmly in place, rent ‘love, actually’ and invite a few girlfriends over for a couple of chardies and a whinge about blokes. She is expected to return to work, as usual, on Monday.

Shocking, isn’t it?

And speaking of a couple of chardies, I’d love you to come to my book lunch. Wednesday March 7 at Ellmo’s, $50 includes a delicious lunch, a glass of wine and a gift copy of Is It Just Me? To book, http://www.isitjustme.com.au/

Baldy!

Is it just me or does everyone want to slap around a few Hollywood parents?

Increasingly, people are seeing their kids as a meal ticket. Tiger Woods, Britney Spears, Posh Spice, even Michael Jackson made their parents very rich. I think it’s a dangerous path to tread if you think your kids might follow in their footsteps.

I don’t recognise Britney Spears anymore. Whether or not I admired her work, Britney spears was always beautiful. Fresh faced and cheeky.

Now she is a puffy pasty pimply skin head with tattoos on her head. She’s got two marriages under her belt, two kids apparently not in her custody and is clearly on the verge of a breakdown. She’s 25.

I haven’t seen anything of Britney’s mother Lynne this week. Apparently she is taking care of Britney’s children at the moment, which is great, as long as she hasn’t booked them in to a talent agency yet…

Hollywood parents, have you noticed, are so much more visible when their kid is on the way up? Not quite so keen on a photo call outside the Betty Ford Clinic.

Hollywood is an ugly business. In the media this morning you might have heard a teary Britney begging on Entertainment Tonight to be left alone by the Papparazzi.

You might also have seen mobile phone footage at the weekend, of Britney doing a late night shave in an LA hair salon. The owner of the salon has also spoken to the press today, claiming one of Britney’s body guards opened the blinds of the salon, that there was a person outside waiting to take the so called ‘random’ footage.

Poor Britney, she just wants to be left alone….

And news just in from Britney’s manager: “Britney Spears has voluntarily checked herself into an undisclosed rehab facility today. We ask that the media respect her privacy as well as those of her family and friends at this time.”

Whatever.

Be the change...

Is it just me or does everyone love to see Australia finally bloody well paying attention?

The federal government has finally jumped on the environmental band wagon and it feels like we are moving in the right direction.
However, Australian of the year Tim Flannery insists it would be dangerous to get complacent or rely on the government agencies to get the job done. In fact, Tim Flannery says we need to treat global warming like we are preparing for war – a fight for our children’s future and our grand children’s.

I think the most important thing of all is that we believe we can turn around global warming. We can make a difference. And what you do at your house today, really will change the future.

Look at all this lovely rain we’re having and our empty dams! There was a show on the ABC last night called Difference Of Opinion…you can go on the ABC TV website if you want to find out more but one of the panellists was talking about water tanks.

This water expert claims South East Queensland is primed for water tank use. In fact, she insists we could reduce our domestic water use by up to 70 per cent, if only every household invested in water tanks…

70 per cent! Because of all our lovely rain!

In Sydney and Melbourne water tanks would reduce household consumption by around 40 or 50 per cent, but for us, 70 per cent! How exciting is that?

And this morning…news the federal government will take conventional light bulbs off the market by 2010, making way for energy saving bulbs.

The statistics on lighting around the world are amazing – current use of light bulbs alone is responsible for 20 per cent of the worlds greenhouse gas emissions. 20 per cent! And one in seven businesses never even bother to turn off all the lights when they go home at night…

Just think of the difference you can make – don’t wait for 2010 – replace your old fashioned light bulbs now. Like Ghandi said, you’ve got to be the change you want to see in the world.

Ralph the Rake!

Is it just me or does everyone feel pretty strongly for Lisa Robertson, the Qantas hostie outed for doing the oofty magoofty with Ralph Fiennes in an aircraft toilet?

I don’t feel sorry for her because she got caught and her name is over every paper from Mumbai to Manchester and back to Melbourne but because she was gullible enough to think she and Ralph the Rake had actually made some sort of connection in the loos.

There is no doubt men lie to get women into bed. How many times has a man whispered into a woman’s ear that “I’ll never hurt you”?

I don’t care what anyone says casual sex is rarely that casual for women. When a woman leaves some bloke’s bed, a small part of her usually gets left behind….

Even if it is a one night stand, every woman kids herself that some kind of connection was made and when the man is cold and dismissive afterward, women are always shocked.

Poor old Lisa Roberston, after she flew back to Sydney, following the Ralph incident, she was told she was suspended without pay pending a disciplinary hearing.

On the advice of a lawyer she tried to make contact with Ralph, leaving an urgent message at the Gate Theatre in Dublin, where she knew he had recently performed.

When he finally returned her call he told her… `We don't know each other very well. I'm very sorry, I can't get involved. I can't help you'.

Lisa says, "I was desperate and suggested we said I was doing something like helping him with a contact lens. But he wouldn't agree.

Then he told me, ' Look, you're just a hostess and you don't even like your job. You can get another job."

"I felt humiliated. It was like talking to a different person.. Then he said, 'Let's have no further phone contact. I'll call you in a month's time, just to show you I'm a human being.'

I don’t feel sorry for Lisa because she’s lost her job or because she’s been exposed for being a bit of a push over. I feel sorry for her because she saw something in a bloke that wasn’t there and that’s a horrible feeling..

Losing out on immigration (and other news...)

Is it just me or does everyone despair at the current obsession with immigrants being forced to speak English?

For my money, it’s a subtle version of the white Australia policy.

On Monday I was at the funeral of Bruno Orazio, my friend Trish’s darling dad. Bruno was born in Nervesa della Battaglia, Italy, in 1931.

A cabinetmaker by trade, in 1951 he immigrated to Australia with barely a word of English.

The need for work took him quickly out west where he met Bonney, a Dirranbandi girl who helped him fill out the forms for a new ute at the local Holden dealership. I think Bruno must have chased Bonney around Dirran for a while because they didn’t marry until the late fifties, but eventually they got together and had four beautiful children.

Bruno spent more than 40 years in Dirranbandi. In the 90’s he retired to the coast to be close to his nine exceptional grand children.

Bruno’s son Tony did the eulogy on Monday. With a laugh, he told us his Dad was amazed to discover when he got to Australia that he wouldn’t be able to speak Italian. That might sound naive, but if you’ve ever been to a country where no one speaks English you’ll understand exactly what he meant.

It’s part of the human condition we are all naturally arrogant enough to assume we will be understood, exactly as we are.

Obviously, in 1950’s outback Queensland that wasn’t going to be the case and Bruno adapted. In the short term, I guess charm was useful for getting pretty girls to fill in his loan forms!

Tony also told the story of a recent party; the last time the whole family was together. At the close of the day as he stood by the car kissing kids and saying goodbye, Bruno got tears in his eyes. “Look at me.” He said, “I came here as just one man, now look what I’ve got.”

If current forces have their way, men like Bruno might never make it to Australia. And that will be our loss, entirely.

Sir Richard Branson has announced a $US25 million ($A32m) prize for the first person to come up with a way of removing CO2 (carbon dioxide) from the atmosphere in the battle to beat global warming.
Is it just me, or does everyone think it smells a little like another Branson gimmick?
(…OOOhhh Richard Branson saves the world…brill!)

For a start, I am pretty sure the science world has already been reasonably busy with the whole climate change thing and secondly, the man owns an airline. Exactly what percentage of greenhouse gas is spewed into the atmosphere by tourists winging their way to the Gold Coast?

Obviously, Sir Richard rejects that argument, "I could ground my airline today, but British Airways would simply take its place." Which sounds to me a little like, “I want to be an environmentalist and eat my carbon too.”

Sadly, for all of us, I’m just not sure that’s possible.


On the road to Brisbane tomorrow, watch out for the crew on the Organ Donation Awareness Cycle from the Sunshine Coast to the Princess Alexandra Hospital. The ride is organised by Mary Long, whose husband Mal received a heart transplant a couple of years ago.

Riders include doctors and other hospital staff, Organ Donor recipients, relatives of Organ Donor recipients and community members. Best of all, the ride is not a fundraiser! It is purely and simply to raise community awareness about Organ Donation and to thank the donor families. And while you’re at it, check your licence and make sure you’ve got all the boxes ticked!

And what about Ralph Fiennes? Caught (allegedly) doing the oofty magoofty with a Qantas flight attendant in the dunnies on a flight from Darwin to Mumbai. Apparently Ralph was travelling to India to promote the awareness of HIV and safe sex. As my son would say, HIGH – larious! I guess abstinence isn’t part of his promotional push.

P.S. Thanks to everyone who’s booked for the official Launch Lunch of my book. It’s a full house. Details of a new one (woohoo!) coming soon!

Are you responsible?

Is it just me or does everyone wonder what we’re doing to our young boys?

I have a theory. Women have very strong opinions on the type of man they find attractive, the type of man they want their daughters to marry. Fair enough.

But as mothers, are we doing enough to turn out a nation of strong, responsible, stand up blokes?

The front page of the Sunshine Coast Daily today makes me sick. A 23 year old body boarder, who no doubt thinks he is God’s gift to women, has allegedly sold hundreds of dvd’s containing footage of his mates performing degrading acts on a drunken 15 year old girl.

Probably more disturbingly, the dvd has been sold through surf and body boarding shops in south east Queensland and New South Wales.

Teenage boys are the most likely consumers of surf dvd’s…

I think we have all watched in horror at the Diane Brimble case. A group of depraved thugs who hunted in a pack, happy to support each other in drugging and debasing women, at least once with fatal results.

I think the most depressing part of that story is their complete lack of remorse. To the so called ‘men of interest’ in the Diane Brimble case, that poor lady remains little more than ‘an ugly dog’.

Someone raised those men. Someone taught them that women don’t matter, that other people’s feelings and safety are irrelevant.

I want you to look around you today, look at your sons, think about what their values are. Are your boys’ kind? Generous? Do they think about the needs of other people? Are they brave? Do you trust them to do the right thing?

Would your son stand up for a 15 year old drunk girl being filmed by a group of older blokes? Would he drag Diane Brimble out of a ship’s cabin and get her help?

Look at your son. Ask yourself if he’s that kind of boy? Because that’s the type of man we need him to be.

Be my Valentine?

Is it just me or does everyone just love love?

I don’t think Valentine’s Day is a day for big gestures, it’s about the little stuff.

I think the best Valentine’s Day present John ever got me was when we were first married – being the highly organised person that I am – I had bought some material and some patterns and was planning to get a couple of work shirts made. The material and patterns had been sitting on top of the wardrobe for about two months…

On Valentine’s Day 1989, about ten days after we were married, I woke up to find the shirts hanging in my wardrobe. Without me knowing, he had gone out, found a dressmaker and had them made for me! Brilliant! Best present ever!

My friend Ricky always talks about his grandparents Richard and Maude.

He says they fell in love at first sight and have been that way for almost sixty years.

Apparently the first time Richard and Maude ever spoke to each other was after World War II, when Richard had just returned from PNG. He was driving his brother's brand-new car through their home town of Wodonga when he saw Maude go into Mcphail’s Furniture.

Pulling over, he jumped out of the car and ran into the shop, right behind her. Maude was a 26 year old school teacher, planning to move out of home. She was inquiring about the price of two twin beds on display.

Bold as brass, Richard, a mere passing acquaintance, stepped up beside her and said, "Now Maude, we are not sleeping on twin beds."

They were married three months later. They did sleep on one of the twin beds until they could afford a double bed, 58 years later they still hate to sleep alone.

Last year, Richard had open-heart surgery. Maude spent every night at the hospital, and every day beside his bed. The first thing Richard said when they removed the tube from his throat was one of the most romantic things I've ever heard. He said, "Maude, you know what that doctor found when he cut me open? He found your name engraved on my heart."

Adventure antics!

Is it just me or does everyone hate the debate about forcing people who are rescued to pay for emergency services?

Justus Ansell, the 21 year old who jumped off a cliff at Noosa at the weekend might be stupid. He might have put other people at risk to save him. He might even be considered a public nuisance but to suggest he didn’t deserve to be rescued is ridiculous.

What about the lady winched off Mount Coolum yesterday? I don’t hear anyone bleating that she should pay for the rescue chopper. What about her judgement?
Shouldn’t someone ask questions about what she was doing up Mount Coolum in the first place? Obviously not.

We are lucky to live in a civilised society, where we value human life. Justus Ansell is very precious to his family and friends and was absolutely worth saving.

Every time this debate raises it’s ugly head we potentially put lives at risk. Wouldn’t it be terrible if someone decided not to call for help for fear of being charged for a rescue or publicly ridiculed.

I’m not an adventurer. I‘m not even that impressed by adventurers…

When I hear someone climbed the Himalayas or swam shark infested water or scaled a waterfall backwards or whatever extreme sports people, I usually think nothing more than I am glad I’m not married to them!

But do I think they shouldn’t be rescued when they get into trouble? Do I think they should be left in the middle of the Tasman or clinging to a cave at the bottom or a cliff in Noosa? Absolutely not.

We have a professional, rescue industry, I could not be prouder of the work they do. They are in the business of saving people’s lives…even stupid people’s.

Truth dare or torture?

Is it just me or does everyone think that exaggeration is sometimes just the art of good conversation?

No one has ever accused me of letting truth get in the way of a good story, that's for sure…

However, I am reading ‘Jonestown’, it’s the unauthorised biography of broadcaster Alan Jones, written by ABC journalist Chris Masters. ‘Jonestown’ is quite the cautionary tale for exaggerators. Imagine having an accomplished journalist and his team of researchers investigating every claim you've ever made and ultimately exposing for as the chronic liar that you are!

Of course, Alan Jones has never used his imagination to pick up women, but I was thinking this morning about lies we might have told to impress the opposite sex.

My friends Cam and Erin were at my house on Saturday, they’ve been together a long time, about the same time as John and me, I think. Cam claims that early on in the piece Erin told him she could barefoot water ski, a claim he is still trying to verify. Erin is adamant a) that she never used that line to pick him up and b) that she did in fact barefoot water ski. I’m thinking of calling Chris Masters…let him get to the bottom of it…

I must have known John was for keeps because I don’t think I ever spun him a line…

Before I met John though I do recall telling one boy in a pub that my parents owned a string of caravan parks, instead of just the one dodgy one.

Of course – as with all extravagant claims, he wanted details. “Wow, lucky you, where do your parents own these parks?” I named a couple of places (Yanchep and Bremer Bay) although to this day I don’t know if those towns even have caravan parks! I’ve never even been to those places!

The bizarre thing about the lie designed to hook someone in, is that it kills the relationship before it starts! Obviously, before the caravan park lie was even out of my mouth I knew I had to walk away…or be caught out for the dirty rotten big noter that I was!!!

So this Valentine's Day...go easy tiger! No one likes a liar - even if they are a doctor in town to catch up with their Uncle John Farnham at a parachuting conference before shipping out to save the lives of small children in Iraq.... xx

70's shockers!

Is it just me or does everyone agree the 70’s is the era good taste forgot?

For those who don't know, I'm actually a radio announcer in my real life and this morning we’re playing 20 to 1 shockers of 70’s, from Chirpy Chirpy Cheep Cheep by Middle of the Road to Rolf Harris Two Little Boys....absolute shockers...

So....was there anything good to come out of the seventies?

It certainly wasn't lurex jumpsuits or paisley culottes. And it wasn't Barry Manilow or Cop Shop.

On the other hand, my little brother Harry was born in 1973. Around the same time they were talking about a wild new concept in America called FM radio.

The seventies gave us colour television, James Taylor, portable cassette recorders, and Grease lightning.

My husband John remembers SSP racers and ant farms. I remember bikes with sissy bars and floral seats.

On TV we were watching The Goodies, ChiPS and Welcome Back Kotter. Mum and Dad were watching The Inventors, and Evie Hayes was on Young Talent Time telling Tiny Tina Arena she had a big future.

The seventies brought us women's lib, drink driving laws, the end of the Vietnam War, and Jack Thompson in the first nude male centre-fold.

For me, the 1970's are when food got interesting. My family discovered Chinese restaurants and take away pizza. Mum bought a fondue set and we were so excited when she had a dinner party and made all the visitors sit on the floor.

In the 1970's, parents spent more time worrying about the length of their son's hair, than drugs or unemployment.

I admit we were happily burning a dirty great hole in the ozone layer, but we were certainly enjoying ourselves…

So quick, turn up the radio, whack on a caftan, and I'll warm up Mum's fondue set.

Crummy mummy?

Is it just me or does everyone wonder what sort of Mum they are?

I’ve never been that fond of the Yummy Mummy tag and not just because it would take hair extensions, new boobs, a tummy tuck and a facelift and a four wheel drive to even get me close, but more because it was one more thing a mum had to worry about! As if what to have for dinner and whether or not the kids toilet is clean enough for unexpected visitors wasn’t enough to make me feel stressed!

Now there’s a couple of new labels. The slummy mummy (thank you Britney, you can put your undies back on now Princess) and the alpha mum.
When I first heard about the slummy mummy it was to compare the scarily perfect Victoria Beckham with poor old Brit but a British writer Fiona Neill has hit back in defence of Britney and I love it. She’s written a book The Secret Life of a Slummy Mummy, in which she confesses to lurching from one cock up to another…just trying to get the job done. Not necessarily with perfect hair and a freezer full of home baked organic meals.
The alpha mum is not new really, I’ve known her for years. She’s the one who’s got her one year old signed up for swimming and gymbaroo. She plays French tapes to her three year old and her year oner is being tutored during the holidays.
At school, she’s usually the one in the playground complaining about school standards. Her kid is usually pale and stressed.
Obviously, I absolutely don’t want to be the alpha Mum, but something about her makes me a little scared too….with over-achievers on the increase, surely there’s a chance my cruisey little middle of the roaders might never get a job!!!
Alpha Mummy…Yummy Mummy…Slummy Mummy…Bummy Mummy (that’s what I think I might be)….Whatever!

I know you saw the schmalty ending coming….but it’s true.
There’s only one label that really matters, good old ‘my mummy’….I think I’ll let my kids be the judge….

Fear of fear?

Is it just me or does everyone think that right now there are birds all around the world, sitting in trees, planning how to peck your eyes out?

I know.....it’s ridiculous, but phobia’s aren’t supposed to make sense are they?

I think I got that phobia back in grade five when a boy in Perth had his corneas pecked out by a magpie and we all had to start wearing ice cream containers on our heads....Whatever! I’m terrified of birds up close. I love them in trees, great in cages, not bad in my back yard (as long as I’m inside with the door shut)....

And I have good reason to be wary of phobias…

My dad was terrified of cancer. We weren’t allowed to have a microwave oven, he wouldn’t eat peanut paste, he wouldn’t eat margarine, burnt toast, anything he read might be linked to cancer was banned from our house…and what did he die of? That’s right, cancer.

My cousin is six foot four and weighs about 17 stone (I don’t even know what that is in kilos…but it’s a lot) and he’s scared of mice. If he ever catches a mouse in a trap, his five foot two wife has to take it out of the house, it's hilarious.

Oprah Winfrey is scared of chewing gum…

Orlando Bloom is scared of Pigs…

David Beckham has ataxaphobia, fear of disorder. Apparently he needs the house tidy at all times and lines things up on the desk or table in front of him…

I have a phobia of ataxaphobia – that’s a fear of someone who hates disorder EVER EVER setting foot inside my house…

Unlucky in love?

Is it just me or does everyone wonder what makes someone unlucky in love?

I am surrounded by the unlucky in love at the moment. Some of the most beautiful people I know are shackled to dickheads (sorry…but you know it’s true).

For me, this involves a busy part time job shoring up friends in doomed relationships. Very boring. I don't know if you watched Desperate last night, but Bree is about to marry a murderer and it reminded me of my own friends...

What do you do when someone you love is planning to marry someone you know is bad news?

I have already proved, time and time again in my life, that I do nothing. Because it turns out I’m a gutless wonder.

I never tell the truth, right up until the day someone says they’re leaving! No...actually, way beyond that, even when they’re tearing their ex to pieces I stay silent, no matter how much of a tool I think the ex is. Gutless? I know.

So for one time and one time only I have decided to tell the truth. And it doesn’t matter who you are, if this sounds like your relationship, then pay attention.

If your partner is mean to you. If they EVER speak to you badly. And I mean EVER, but particularly in public. Then see you later! I mean it, get out now. The truth is, your partner probably doesn’t have any respect for you and you and I both know you deserve better than that. I don't care if he apologises later, mean is mean and he is never going to make you feel happy or good about yourself. Get out now.


If you have to make excuses for your partner’s behaviour. If you go out with friends or workmates or family and you find yourself saying …”Oh, she’s just stressed at work…” or, “She’s tired…” or, “A good friend of hers is just sick…” If you find yourself constantly making excuses of any sort for you partner, then see you later! Start running…

They are the big ones, but there are some basic ones too, like if they’re cruel to animals or they don’t like your friends…

But the biggest and most obvious one of all, is undoubtedly if he’s French. I don’t care how handsome, how unshaven, or how delicious his bedroom eyes and French voice make your tummy feel . Get out now! Run away! This can only end in tears….

Kylie, sweetheart, come home Princess..

18! 18!

Is it just me or does everyone think men are hard to buy presents for?

On Sunday John and I will have been married 18 years, which is a milestone in itself but this one is particularly important.

Last year, John was away for our anniversary. He was in Dallas Texas for work, that’s right, on an overseas trip, without me.

On the morning of our anniversary, the kids all produced a card, which he had written before he left. In the cards he had written the words to the Paul Kelly song ‘When I first met your ma’…and there was a Paul Kelly dvd waiting for me too…yes…all right...I know...very romantic…

But he wasn’t there…was he? He was overseas whooping it up at a radio conference without me! So I just gave him a call, something I have been suffering for ever since.

Apparently my lack of effort was noted. A little bit disappointing as it turns out…

So what do I do? What do you get a man who refuses to let you spend any money on him?

By 18, they’ve run out of gifts on the traditional and modern list. You have to wait for 20 years for the next suggestion…

The gemstone for 18 years is malachite. Not only have I never heard of it but somehow I can’t imagine Johnny being excited about a malachite pendant to celebrate our 18 year union…

So what do I do? On the radio this morning I have already generously received the advice that I should shut up for two weeks, put out for two years, turn up naked with beer and buy malachite coloured lingerie. Thanks boys...you've been a lot of help....

Paul Harvey writes...

Is it just me or does everyone sometimes think we tried so hard to make things better for our kids that we made them worse.

Paul Harvey is an American writer who is adamant he made his own kids soft.

He writes, for my grandchildren, I'd like better. I'd really like for them to know about hand me down clothes and homemade ice cream and leftover meat loaf sandwiches. I really would.

I hope you learn humility by being humiliated and honesty by being cheated.

I hope you learn to make your own bed and mow the lawn and wash the car. And I really hope nobody gives you a brand new car when you are seventeen.

It will be good if at least one time you can see puppies born and your old dog put to sleep.

I hope you get a black eye fighting for something you believe in I hope you have to share a bedroom with your younger brother.

And it's all right if you have to draw a line down the middle of the room, but when he wants to crawl under the covers with you because he's scared, I hope you let him.

When you want to see a movie and your little sister wants to tag along, I hope you'll let her.

I hope you have to walk uphill to school with your friends…

On rainy days when you have to catch a ride, I hope you don't ask your driver to drop you two blocks away so you won't be seen riding with someone as uncool as your Mum.

I hope you learn to dig in the dirt and read books. When you learn to use computers, I hope you also learn to add and subtract in your head.

I hope you get teased by your friends when you have your first crush, and when you talk back to your mother that you learn what soap tastes like.

May you skin your knee, burn your hand on a stove and break a bone when a game gets out of hand.

I don't care if you try a beer once, but I hope you don't like it. And if a friend offers you a joint, I hope you realize he is not your friend I sure hope you make time to sit on a verandah with your Grandma and go fishing with your Uncle.

May you feel sorrow at a funeral and joy during the holidays.

These things I wish for you - tough times and disappointment, hard work and happiness. To me, it's the only way to appreciate life.