Oh, How Sweet It Is!

Is the Murdoch Media Empire in Decline? If so, how sweet it is. Murdoch and other very conservative media slammed Anthony Albanese and the Labor Party for 12 months prior to the Federal election. At the same time they massaged Peter Dutton and the LNP Opposition.

Result! A resounding victory for Albanese and the  Labor Party and a crushing defeat for the Liberal Party and its leader Peter Dutton, who lost his own seat in the debacle.                                                         Is it the beginning of the end of a crumbling Murdoch media empire?

Nicole Chvasta, writing online in The Politics, has taken a scalpel to the Murdoch Media and its major role in almost destroying the Liberal Party which was soundly thrashed by labor in the may 3rd Federal Election. 

Here is just one memorable quote from her forensic analysis of the toxic Murdoch media.

"Remarkably, after cheer leading the Liberals to disaster on May 3, The Australian national newspaper  leapt back up onto its feet to brush off its flesh wound and lecture the Coalition on “missing the warnings”

Nicole  quotes a paragraph from The Australian following Albanese's monumental election victory.           "Of all the mistakes that led to this result, one was fatal: the untested assumption that Labor was out of touch and unaligned with the mainstream values of Australians. There can be no other interpretation that that this is fundamentally wrong.”

Nicole then adds, "This from the paper that tells us pretty much every day that Labor is out of touch and unaligned with the mainstream values of Australians." Like Pontius Pilate, Murdoch's media is washing its hands of the huge LNP  defeat even though it never once during the campaign highlighted any of "the messages" Dutton was missing.

In Western Australia we had the same slanted message from our only daily newspaper, the Kerry Stokes owned West Australian. For the last 18 months, the West's editor, Christopher Dore, has been telling us that Australians think Albanese is on the nose, that Peter Dutton is  a strong leader with a nuclear vision for Australia's energy future. 

Could Saturday's thumping victory  for Labor be the start of the decline of Murdoch and Stokes' power to influence voters? Let us hope so. Murdoch and Stokes have dominated public opinion for many years with their  heavy bias towards the Liberal/National Party Coalition. Not just in their editorials. Many journalists are obviously instructed by their editors to praise the Right and bag the Left. Their Letters to the Editor pages are always filled with Anti Labor messages from a coterie of regular conservative correspondents.

Labor Prime Minister, Paul Keating was not expected to win the 1993 federal election. He did so quite comfortably. Late in the evening on Polling Day, Keating mounted the stage at Labor Party headquarters, looked straight at the camera and said,  "This is the sweetest victory of all."The crowd went wild. As you do when you enjoy an unexpected win. Perhaps  Mr Albanese, after the unexpected and  massive landslide victory, could copy a line from Jackie Gleason who kept telling us all "How sweet it is!"

On May 3rd, opinions were divided as to the result.. The Murdoch/Stokes media were constantly telling us Anthony Albanese was a weak leader and on the nose with voters. .Peter Dutton, the right wing media told us, was a strong leader of the Liberal/National coalition  and had all the answers to inflation, cost of living pressures and an energy programme to combat fossil fuel emissions with his nuclear energy plan. Albeit, that nuclear energy plan was not going to come on stream for about twenty years.

Albanese and Dutton had four TV debates. In each of these Peter Dutton ridiculed Albanese for being weak, a liar and unfit to be Prime Minister. Albanese, taking a leaf out of arch conservative, Margaret Thatcher's debating tips, refused to engage in personal vilification. He told Dutton that resorting to personal insults was not what the voters wanted to hear. They wanted information on policies and what the future was going to look like. That was very good advice which Dutton ignored. Albanese also gave us one of the few memorable quotes of the campaign, "Kindness is not a weakness." No, sir. Sometimes, it takes real courage to show kindness.

According to the earlier polls, Dutton would have won a federal election held 12 months ago. However, as the election loomed ever closer, the polls began to say that Albanese and Labor were now more likely to win. Most people said Labor would win the most seats but not enough to govern  in its own right. It would be a Hung Parliament and labor would have to negotiate with minor parties on the crossbench in order to govern.

It is fair to say everyone thought the May 3rd poll would be close. Listening  to ABC Radio of the morning of the election, the radio presenter introduced Karen Middleton as a senior journalist who had covered many elections.The presenter asked Karen how she thought the voting would go. Well Karen is an experienced journalist but like almost everybody, including the two party leaders, she did not have clue. She told the ABC presenter and the listening audience, that it was possible that Labor could win the most seats but in a hung parliament. Then she added that Labor may win  a majority of seats and be able to form a government in its own right.  Just to cover all the options, Karen then said that it was also possible that Peter Dutton could win a majority of seats in a hung parliament. I was waiting for her to say 'And the cow could jump over the Moon". but the presenter thanked her and switched to another topic.

Well, as we now know, the result was an absolute triumph for Labor. Despite Murdoch and Stokes' media's  low  opinions of Anthony Albanese, he was not on the nose with Australian voters. Quite the reverse . 

It is usual for a party going for its second election to to lose a few seats. Albanese's Labor party s won more than double the seats of its main opposition. An unprecedented electoral victory in which the main Labor opponents, Peter Dutton (Liberal leader) and Adam Bant (Greens leader) both lost their seats.

Given the Murdoch/Stokes media's wholehearted support for Peter Dutton and their  pointed barbs directed at Labor and Albanese, perhaps we can at last say that the Murdoch/Stokes Media monopoly is no longer a powerful force in forming voters' opinions.

As I watched the count and saw Labor winning more and more seats I thought of my late cousins, Raymond and Maurie Carr, and my great friend, the late Sean Walsh. In earlier Labor triumphs in years gone by, I had been on the phone to them or at their houses, luxuriating in a political rarity in Australia, a Labor Party electoral victory.

I also thought fondly of Gough Whitlam, the reforming. progressive Prime Minister, who in three short years gave us so many of things we enjoy in Australia today. From 1972, Whitlam had to battle  an LNP conytrolled senate that had been elected three years or more before. These conservative senators thought reform and modernisation was tantamount to treason. They also believed that the Liberal National Party Coalition had a God given right to govern and were Born to Rule."                                                          They blocked Whitlam's election agenda. After eighteen months, Whitlam called a Double Dissolution of both houses. He won the election and as allowed by the Constitution, held  a joint sitting of both houses to pass bills like Universal Health Care, Equal Pay for Equal Work, One Vote-One Value, No fee Universities. No Fault Divorce, Cheaper Daycare. He got those and other bills passed but the Senate still refused to pass his newer legislation. It made no difference to the  LNP  senate that Whitlam had just won a second election that endorsed his policies.The LNP Senate dominace by the way came about because in defiance of all parliamentary conventions since Federation, state LNP governments replaced retiring Labor Senators with non Labor people.

At the same time The  Governor General, John Kerr, who was constitutionally required to take advice only from the Prime Minister, started taking advice from  two justices of the High Court, from  Michael Heseltine,  the Queen's Private Secretary and even from  a malevelent Malcolm Fraser, who was now leading the LNP opposition on an all out war to get rid of Whitlam and his government.

To make matters worse, News media mogul Rupert Murdoch turned against Whitlam. Murdoch had supported Whitlam in 1972. However, when Whitlam refused to appoint Murdoch as Australia's High Commissioner to Great Britain, Murdoch was furious. He instructed his various editors to "Kill Whitlam", Murdoch's media spread vicious, sensational and untrue stories about various ministers in the Whitlam govermnent.                                                                                                                                                                     When the Senate blocked Supply Whitlam went to the Governor General's residence and asked him to dissolve the parliament and call a half senate election. Instead, on the advice of his many Liberal Party  advisers, Kerr sacked Whitlam. He then  made Malcom Fraser  the caretaker Prime Minister, even though he did not have a majority in the House of Representatives. Another precedent. Whitlam had been stabbed in the back by a derelict and egotistical Governor General and a tough as nails opposition leader who had not the slightest trouble breaking all sorts of Parliamentary conventions in order to gain political power, which he did in the subsequent election.                                                                                                                                                                                           I am certain that wherever he is today, Gough Whitlam gleefully watched Labor's annihilation of the Liberal Party and the impotence of the Murdoch/Stokes media to influence voter's opinions.                    No doubt Gough  proclaimed in imperious tones,"Men and Women of Australia! How sweet it is".             Oh, yes indeed!                    

An Interest in Passing

Some years ago, I wrote “Confessions of a Jogger” The Confesions of a Jogger which detailed my less than athletic jogging career. Most of the events mentioned in that story occurred before the Federal election of 1993. That was when I had a heart attack and was rushed to Sir Charles Gardener Hospital. The good news is that I did not die! However, while I was there, they did some other tests and few days later the Registrar came in and asked me, “How long have you had diabetes?

“I don’t have diabetes,” I stoutly replied.

The Registrar then showed me a string of figures showing conclusively that my blood sugars  were well above normal, several  hours after I had eaten anything.                                                                                   Oh, well, I conceded, maybe I do have diabetes.

Fortunately, the recovery therapy for heart attack and diabetes is pretty much the same. Medication, Exercise and Diet.

 So, I started taking tablets for cardio vascular disease, hypertension and diabetes type two. I also started eating meals that were higher in fibre and lower in salt, sugar and fat.  I started walking on a regular basis. After my slow rehabilitation from my heart attack, I started walking any where from 45 minutes to 90 minutes each evening after tea.On weekends in the footy season, I would walk along the beach  footpaths  between  Whitfords , Sorrento and the Hillarys Marina. Generally, I would walk one way until half time and then turn around and then head home. As an Australian Rules game of football lasts for two and a half hours, including quarter time, three quarter time  and half-time breaks, it meant I was walking about two and a half hours each Saturday in the footy season. In the summer months I used to walk the circuit around the Swan River foreshore from the picnic parkland near  Coco’s Restaurant, over the Narrows Bridge, along Riverside Drive, over the Causeway and back to the South Perth foreshore. It was about ten kilometres and it took me just under two hours.

My doctor as quite pleased. My blood pressure and sugar levels were satisfactorily with in the acceptable range.

In fact, on one occasion my doctor leaned across his desk and intoned in confidential terms, “Noel, you are one of the lucky ones. You know, the best thing that can happen to a middle-aged man is to have heart attack and not die.”   Obviously, I looked rather sceptical because he continued more effusively.

“ You see, Noel, if you survive the heart attack, you will then modify your diet and change your lifestyle and this will help you live a longer and healthier life”

Well, he was right, of course. But the happier, fitter me was not really thrilled by the  fact that when I went walking almost everybody passed me. I would be moving along Ocean Boulevard like Burt Lancaster, as the bemedalled native American Olympic athlete, Jim Thorpe in Man of Bronze, when young mothers pushing prams would move passed me as if I as standing still.

Not only young mothers. Groups of older ladies. I was in my mid fifties at the time. Heavily engaged in conversation, blue rinsed elderly women would breeze past me.I tried to look like I was just out for a leisurely stroll and not a heart attack victim on a power walk for self-preservation.

It should have been humiliating, but it wasn’t. Fortunately, I was quite used to this embarrassing phenomenon of apparently standing still while the rest of the world passed me by. I had been groomed to always be the person who was passed. This grooming took place when I was a fit and healthy 26 year old in 1965. I had recently returned from three years working and living overseas. It was the long, summer holidays and every day my friends and I would meet up at North Cottesloe Beach.

Two of my very good friends were Sean and Tim Walsh. They were middle distance runners and competed each Saturday at Perry Lakes Stadium for the Scarborough Athletics Club. Sean and Tim generally ran in the mile race on Saturdays at the State Athletics Association’s weekly competition. Later they competed in 1500 meter races,  At various times they both won the State Mile Championship and Tim was the first ever winner of the City to Surf Race over about a ten mile course. They also both won the State Marathon race over forty-two point something miles  and later on, whatever the equivalent is in kilometres.

“So,” I hear you impatiently asking, “ how did these  two blokes give you your penchant for always being passed?”  Well, the simple fact is that I was the  key cog in the training regime that enabled Sean and Tim to kick away in the final straight of a long, long  race.

I was their Sprint Bunny! Just like greyhounds and whippets chase dummy rabbits around the track, I was the dummy bunny that Sean and Tim used to develop their sprinting technique. After a hard day of surfing, swimming, talking, eating, lazing in the sun, watching beautiful girls at very close range and the odd game of beach cricket, Sean and Tim would say that it was time to go to Tomkins Park for some training. I would accompany them, not to improve my sprinting technique because such a thing did not exist, but to be their dummy bunny.

On arrival at the park, a sprinkler, about eighty yards away, would be selected as the target. Sean and Tim would mark out a starting line and I would stand about four yards in front of them. One of them would yell “Go” and off we would sprint. Well, they would be sprinting. I was executing what some would say was an animated fast walk.

Anyhow, I would be in front for a very  few seconds and then my friends would surge past me to the sprinkler. We would then walk back to start and repeat the process, this time with me off an increased handicap. However, it did not matter how big my handicap was. In every race I would be in front and then suddenly I was coming third in a three-person sprint. The only time I felt embarrassed by these  constant defeats was when we arrived at the sprinkler just as a bus travelling along Canning Highway pulled up right near where the sprinkler was positioned. All those passengers peering out of their window as I stumbled in dead last. Sean and Tim used to time the races so that we always finished when as bus was pulling in on that busy highway. Oh, well, I thought. It is not so bad. It is a different set of passengers each time. That was my considerable contribution to the glorious athletic achievements of Sean and Tim Walsh.

Actually, I had had a similar experience back in 1956/7 when I played in The Mt Lawley Cricket Club Colt’s Team. It was an Under 19 competition. Also, in this team were four boys from Wesley College. I went to Aquinas College and I had seen these boys run  magnificently in the Greater Public Schools Interschool Athletic Carnivals. One of these boys was Jim Wieland who won the WA State 100 yards sprint champion trophy on several occasions. The other boys were the Hawkins brothers whose name I have unfortunately forgotten. The oldest boy was Kim and he had two younger twin brothers.  They all could run like the wind over any distance from 100 to 880 yards.

When we were fielding the Hawkins boys were at First, Second  and Third Slip. Jim was in the Gully and I was at Point. For those not familiar with cricket ( I know this blog is read by people in Russia) imagine an analogue clock face with the batsmen in the centre of that clock face. The slips, gully and point positions would run down from the 12 o-clock position to 9-0 clock, which would be me fielding at Point.

Now when a batsman square cuts a ball, it generally goes between gully and point and so Jim and I would be expected to chase after the ball. However, these Wesley boys were very competitive. Whenever the ball was cut near the slips, gully or point Jim, the Hawkins boys and  I (sometimes) would all set off after it. Often, it would be hit nearer to me. For a while I would be in front but not for long. As sure night follows day, Jim and the Hawkins boys would flash past me  in pursuit of the ball. Being passed by Jimmy Wieland and the hustling  Hawkins boys stood me in good stead for those similar experiences with Tim and Sean Walsh and again, in my later years, almost anybody out for a stroll.

In fact, the only time I was really embarrassed because of my viscous running style was when I was principal at Three Springs Primary School in the early 1980s. I was coerced to go in a Community Fun Run for a good cause. Fun  Run is a massive oxymoron.                                                                                  I discussed this incident in detail in my blog about jogging mentioned above. It was a run of about ten kilometres and we sought sponsors for the worthy cause. It could have been in support of Athletes Anonymous which is set up to talk middle aged people out of participating in Fun Runs or Parents Versus Student sports contests. On this occasion I was breathlessly stumbling into the final kilometres when my thirteen year old daughter Jane, went skipping past me with some of her high school friends.

Now that is humiliating.

 

Senior Moments! Forgetable memorable moments.

I have neglected my blogsite for far too long. The chaotic, Russian loving  Donald Trump has caused me to spend far too much of my time writing comments on Facebook about the dangerous political scene that Trump and a biased media have given us. I have decided to change the subject abruptly and write what may be called more whimsical pieces.

 I am pleased to note, however, that while my Blogsite was untouched by human word processor for four months, several thousand people still visited my blogsite. Thank you all so very much.              

I will not make any promises but I will try to be a more regular correspondent in the future and will try to avoid Donald Trump if I can. I am ashamed to say I have written more stories about Vladimir Putin's best friend and current USA  President  than I have about Sir Donald Bradman. Incredible, but true.

To start this blog writing renaissance I have chosen a topic dear to my heart. Me! I turned 87 at my last birthday, Christmas Eve, 2024. In thanking my family members and friends I pointed out that in cricket, 87 is considered to be an unlucky number for an Australian batsman. Most people say this is because it is the Devil's Number...thirteen runs short of a century. 

I told my family and friends that there was no statistical evidence to show that Australian batsmen are dismissed on 87 more frequently than any other number from 0 to 99. I did this to indicate that I did not think 87 would be my last birthday, so they could all postpone any thoughts of small savings on my 88th birthday present.                  "Yes," folks I assured them. "I am 87 but I am still in the game. I am still batting." They laughed. I guess they knew that, though I am still batting, my form and my style are a long way from the halcyon days of my youth.      I am well and truly into what people refer to as The Senior Years. That is why this blog is about ME! My game is a bit wobbly these days. I thought I had better write about some of my Senior Moments... while I can still remember them.

I live, with the beautiful Lesley, in an over 55 years old apartment complex.  On Saturday, March 5th I was to have my annual ultra sound, which keeps track of my circulation and other useful anatomical  information. Before this ultra sound test I am required to fast for five hours. My ultrasound was due at 12-30 PM so I arose at 6-00AM and had a small breakfast and cup of coffee to keep me going throughout the morning, I did not attend the usual community morning tea in the clubrooms and went for a walk instead. At noon I told Lesley I was heading off for my ultra sound . I grabbed my car keys and the medical appointment notice from my Specialist and headed out of the door. Sitting the car and about to set off, I checked the medical appointment notice. It was for 12-30pm on March 15. Two weeks away, At the bottom of the notice was a hand written message.

NB. This rescheduled appointment cancels the previous appointment for March 5.

I went back inside and told a surprised Lesley that I had forgotten about the changed date of the appointment.   "You've done things like that before, " was her only comment.                                                                                    Indeed I have!

As mentioned above, every Saturday morning about fifteen or so residents have morning tea in our function room which is called The Clubrooms. I used to enjoy my morning coffee in a special coffee cup. This family heirloom displayed a photograph taken in 2012 of Lesley and me and our seven grandchildren. Sometime in mid-2024 this coffee cup went missing. A thorough search of the clubrooms and requests in the Community Newsletter for information about its whereabouts failed to find the precious cup. It is now generally agreed that it was broken during some social gathering in the clubrooms and then dispatched into the rubbish bin by a person or persons unknown who had no idea of the cup’s huge sentimental value.                                                                

 As it happens, I had another coffee mug with another photo of Lesley and me our seven grandchildren inscribed on it. I placed this cup in the cupboard. However, early in 2025, I turned away from the kitchen cupboard  complaining that this replacement coffee mug was also missing.                                                                                                          “Have another look,” was the generally helpful advice I received. I went back and checked again, only to gloomily report once more that my prized mug was missing.                                                                       

 Kindhearted souls helped me look to see if any of the residents were enjoying their morning tea and using my mug or if it was in the dishwasher or in other cupboards in the kitchen. The search was fruitless, or more precisely, mugless!  I grumpily made my coffee in another mug and sat at the table, sulkily brooding over another lost heirloom.                                                                                                                                                                            Two minutes later a resident named Allen came up to me, brandishing the allegedly missing coffee mug.                   Astonished, I exclaimed,  “Where was it?” as Allen placed the mug on the table in front of me                               “In the cupboard,” replied Allen with that gentle tone so necessary when dealing with the weak and feeble.            I then heard Lesley remark to those nearby, “I told you he is not a good looker." 

Two weeks later, I travelled with Lesley to the WA Museum to visit the excellent Kimberley Exhibition. Our third grandson, Cisco, worked at the Museum over the summer holidays as a part time Volunteer Guide.                        After Grandson #3 finished his volunteer guide duties at 1-00pm, the three of us bravely ventured into  Northbridge for lunch. After that, we made our way back to Perth Railway Station. As I approached the Tag On machine, I was startled by a Transperth attendant monitoring the scene, who said, “Hey, you can’t do that!”                                                   

“I’m just going to tag on” I explained.                                                                                  “Yes, but not with that Visa Card,” said the attendant.                                                                 It’s true! I had reached into my pocket and was going to tag on with my blue Visa                    As I said, I am still in the game and I am still batting,                                                              What's the name of that game, again?