Stretching my arms back behind my head I breathed a sigh of glee and relief when the sports editor said to me, “How about you make your radio debut tomorrow morning, bigfoot?”

It was more of a statement than a question.

Every Thursday morning since I had started at the paper, I noticed the phone would go berserk at around 8.30am.

My colleague seemed to have the same casual chat, twice, maybe the second time a bit sterner but without fail every Thursday morning after the edition went to print.

A bloke named Ewan from Southern Cross radio was on the blower last week and this time he was after me.

Shit!

He asked me whether I’d been given the run through and with this I agreed, yet being no less nervous for the occasion; within four minutes I went from Barfoot, to Bigfoot to Barefoot.

I’ll be sure to set him straight next week.

This week in the news I would tell him, right after the sports and the weather. I was on!

“Hi Ewan”, I probably blared down the receiver. This bastard has infected me I thought.

“Twenty-seven new government homes worth in total of $7.5 million will be built in Naracoorte in an attempt to address the current critical shortage of housing. It’s part of the Federal Government’s $42 billion nation building economic stimulus plan and is due to commence in April next year…..

“Primary school students from the area have lent their colourful and vibrant artworks to liven up the walls of the BankSA branch here in Naracoorte.

“Also a group of tennis players have returned from the Masters Games in Sydney with a number of medals, and hope their win influences others to take up the sport in the area.

“More than 1300 people in Naracoorte have had the H1N1 Swine Flu shots since the start of October..

“Also the Naracoorte Cricket Club’s goods and services auction was a great success making more than $30,000 to help rebuild their club, the top selling item was a 2009 autographed Geelong Football Club Sherrin.”

So it should be!

Tune in next week folks, for a less nervous and stagnated report of the local news.

Welcome to Jschool’s class of 2009 graduation ceremony. I would like to express my sincere thanks to all the family and friends who have travelled from near and far to help us celebrate the closing of one magnificent chapter and the beginning and rebirth of eight eager and questioning young minds.

What a year! What a class! What an adventure! What a reawakening of knowledge and passion and yearning to learn!

I am honoured to stand here before you today and have shared with you times of absolute hilarity, absolute re-establishment of knowledge and absolute vodka.

I would like to welcome and thank Desley Bartlett and Professor John Henningham for their efforts and faith in us as students.

John has embarked on a mission to enrich us with a desire to learn, a lesson in history, a transformation of tech savvy high school leavers, endeared and disgruntled men of finance, a fashion designer from Finland, a Western Australian with a chip on his shoulder about the Geelong V Collingwood preliminary final, a Vietnamese teacher and karate expert and last but not least Astushi Wadamine who took on the challenge, through down the gauntlet and crossed cultural boundaries and new challenges to learn the writing craft in a first language English speaking country.

I hope now we are on our way to becoming renaissance men. Jack’s of all trades and open to the pursuit of knowledge and willingness to harness and use the resources and skills we have learnt as Journalism students in the ever-growing global village.

Special thanks to Desley whose patience, character, perseverance, encouragement and passion for journalism has influenced myself and all the graduates here today. She has taught us how to step back from an issue and critically analyse its newsworthiness and how to convey it to an audience. She has given us the bricks and the mortar to go into the media industry with a clear scope of what’s going on, how we can harness it to further our skills and abilities and most importantly to never give up, never give in, always persevere.

Thank-you also to the Tee line queen Julie Abell. Julie endured some of the toughest hours that teaching Jschool must deliver. When each Thursday would roll around and the classroom on Ann St. slowly filled with the sore heads from Wednesday night or the parched grins that 60wpm shorthand just could not restrain. The criterion always surpassed expectation.

In all my years as a student from high school through to Tertiary, I can confidently say I have never learnt more and been encouraged to learn and believe in my own ability until I commenced a diploma of journalism here at Jschool.

The doors of perception have been opened; the myth and ignorance of how to enter into the media industry and its current state have dissolved. We have all become wiser and aware; we now know how to do it. So get amongst it. 

Now is the time to neither meander, dawdle, falter nor depreciate what opportunity we have all been given, Carpe diem.

We never stop being students, we must never stop and walk from the gatekeeper’s door, and we must continue to harness the resources we have at hand to inform.

The keys to the ever-growing mediums exist within our own willingness to question and be always open and ready to put their newfound options to good use.

To each of you I thank-you for a brilliant year:

Adrian- You have the quick wit and vast knowledge of today’s world and all its gadgetry and awesomeness to go very far, use the force wisely young Jedi.

Ben- The duke, “There was madness in any direction, at any hour. You could strike sparks anywhere. There was a fantastic universal sense that whatever we were doing was right, that we were winning.” Ben your character, wisdom and time for everyone will see you travel down many rich roads of truth and justice on your path through Journalism. You have been a rich asset to the class of 2009, steadying the ship and bringing a communal atmosphere to the group. Now as your attorney, I advise you to drive at top speed through the streets and on the beat.

Jim- The storyteller. Jim the karate tour de force, Jim the Casanova, Jim the original prankster. Jim, you have an incredible ability to tell a good yarn. From your many experiences in Vietnam and your interesting perception of life. I hope you enjoyed this year living abroad yet again and I read of your adventures someday soon in a novel at my local bookstore.

Reija- Your keen eye for detail and knowledge of what’s hot and what’s not will be sure to fulfil your sense of adventure as either a dynamite fashion reporter or designer. Keep the faith.

Rhys- “It’s 1500 kilometres to Footscray, we got a full tanks of gas, half a pack of cigarettes, it’s dark and we’re wearing sunglasses.” Rhys your vast knowledge of everything cool from Ray Manterik to the public bar on Elizabeth St is sure to see you crack this journalism bizzo in a big way. You took this year on and put your nose to the grindstone and it will all pay off in ace of spades. Best of luck in Victoria and I look forward to reading one of your succinct and fresh reviews soon.

Tim- The perfectionist. Tim you are the great socialiser and I’m sure your love of people and communicating will see you end up behind a television news desk one-day, broadcasting to the world how Collingwood finally sought their vengeance on the team from the cattery. One day.

Atstushi- Your courage, perseverance and determination to succeed this year is truly a reflection of your brilliance. I wish you the best of luck in your journalism pursuits in Japan and commend you on the hard work you have put in. I hope you return and teach your Japanese mates some of the Australian colloquialism I have told you through the year.

This year we have gone through the halls of council, parliament, newsrooms, a radio station, a police station, art galleries, theatres and courts. We have been introduced to the institutions of Australian Society and the history of the world. We have learnt of the movers and shakers, the revolutionaries, the geniuses, the warriors and the academics.

We have learnt how to write and express to an audience of break neck speed-readers, not interested in our fancy words or riveting plots. They want to see structure and facts right from the top.

However, it is here where we can use all the creative geniuses and desire to kick back against the fray and become revolutionaries ourselves.

The institutions we have toured through this year may be what govern us and dictate the pecking order but they cannot defeat our courage and imagination.

Our courage to use our imagination and to make an institution of it in ourselves. My mother always told there was more than one way to skin a cat.

These reigns true through all avenues in the industry, we are embarking upon; we should count ourselves very fortunate that history has found us with so many tools at hand to enhance it and to create what seems fathomable into reality.

Newspaper journalism needs it. With whispers of its uncertainty as the world-wide-web bounces the news around the globe, for it to survive it needs an injection of imagination.

Tripping over my own two big feet

On my very own news beat

I’m the real life Norman Gunston, Gunston, Gunston, Gunston Yeah

I’m the real life Norman Gunston

What’s that you want a proof?

Mate your camera’s got no flash!

Oops Sorry Excuse me madam,

Im the real life Norman Guuunston

Im the real life Norman Guuuunston

I said hey editor

I’ve got this pic

I think, it’s pretty damn sic

Its of a tree and some shit

Gunston, Gunston, Gunston, Gunston

Any people in it he said to me

No I replied, not one to three

Well, you will have to go back and get another one

Cos’ your the real life Norman Gunston, Gunston, Gunston, Gunston, Gunston

You’re the real life Norman Gunston

You’re the real life Norman Gunston

(Bretty Barfoot you know it’s truuue)

(Bretty Barfoot you know it’s truuue) backup vocals sung by African American Gospel singers.

(Bretty Barfoot you know it’s truuue)

Your the real life Norman Guuuunston

Your the real life Norman Guuuunston

All the Gunston’s put your hands in the air

And waive your out of focus shots like you just don’t care

If only Gough were here to save my ass

I’d even offer him my autograph

Cos we’re the real life Norman Gunstons, Gunstons, Gunstons, Gunstons

Peace……… Pow! Pow!

(fade out)

I am here wrapped woolen yet brisk, the outside chill of Naracoorte has forced me to quit smoking.

On Friday the dogs that live in my backyard killed a wayward chicken. His adventure now is well and truly through. What I thought was either a cruel prank played by my housemate and her guest, or the pissy squealing nuisance of her cat in some kind of home detention in the bedroom next door, was really the death, of possibly the last free range chicken in Australia.

It had been an early night for me, sound from Nintendo wii’s condescending bowels had nearly pushed me over the edge. What on earth is the point in practicing ten pin bowling with a hundred fucking pins? In the real game you need to hit ten, Ten!!!!

 My steady consumption of coopers pale ale since my arrival has seen me to deliver an ever relaxed prose.

However my news writing has improved, the pyramid is taking shape! Ramses would be proud.

“You must support the top, you must support the top, you damn Victorian heathen,” he would yell, while two foreigners at the local market place pushing Karma Sutra books at half price tell an interested onlooker, “You find two friends, they find two friends, it’s that easy!” “Isn’t it?”

Every person I’ve interviewed so far has commented on how my teeline looks alot like hieroglyphs. I’m inclined to agree, in fact, I do with most.

My plan for the teeline test involves 1) The Rosetta stone and 2) as Julie suggested, a hammer.

The night before the chicken died I approached my housemate and asked her to introduce me to her dogs. She replied, “Whaa you like the darrgs?” “You like the darrgs,” and I said, are they quite vicious?

All week while I washed the dishes I looked out the kitchen window into two sets of cold, psychotic looking eyes staring back at me. Sometimes I would use my sharpening skills of telekinesis; “Nice doggies, that’s good doggies out there” I would tell them while the basket of washing stacked higher and higher.

How in the name of Phillip J Fry am I too peg out my washing?

“One will lick you to death and the other will probably just want to jump all over you,” my housemate said.

It was midday after the killing when I summoned the courage to venture into the backyard. Two men, one with a whippersnipper spoke to the other over the back fence as the dogs approached. I quickly realized it was the housemate’s father, a limestone quarry man.

He told me he had constructed an electric fence around the perimeter of the backyard. “That ought to keep the bloody mongrels” he said as I pegged out a fortnight’s worth of laundry.

The dogs commenced to lick me and one offered a stick in recreation.

I suggested to the quarry man whether a car battery would perturb the beasts rather than only the few every ready batteries he had in use.

He didn’t respond, but I am sure his hopeful their addicted behaviour will one day cease.

So am I.

ps. I am looking forward to receiving the 2009 JSchool Blog Award upon my return to Brisbane.

cheers.

I am 10 minutes late for my first day at the Herald….shit!!

This is the production team my boss tells me, work station carrels, lay out sheets and the smooth grey laminate of office space surrounds me.

Sub-editing sports results from the weekend and learning the house style, a short dabble in layout and organising my plan of attack  for the week all before lunch.

Organisation, Organisation, Organisation!

Make an institution of your organisational skills I urge you!

Everyone from the editor to the sports journos in the news room speak in short, concise sentences, you get it, you note it and you get more of it.

There is no room for poetic prose or pop culture references here.

The editor trudges up a quarter of the flight of stairs and speaks to the sports editor in a language that is foreign to me on my first day.

But I am unravelling, I am deciphering, I am becoming  more short, sharp and concise.

Already I see the value in working two rows back, one to the side and three rows or maybe five backwards to push this mighty boat onwards.

Rain scheduled for the rest of the week.

Time to grab an oar….

After a short trip around Ipswich heading north when I should have been trekking south I was quickly on my way again.

Through the hills and far away, King Crimson’s neuroses flickered between each white strip on the road.

Whatever did happen to the world?

Taller walls and stronger cages…

It was somewhere around Karara I noticed something was desperately wrong. Temperature gauges on over-load, a smell of burning oil and fumes from the roadside were too strong.

My chariot, my beast of a billion backs could not possibly be in tune with my eagerness, my goddamn influential nature!

After a brief stop off at a rest area, I noticed nothing had changed.

My car was obviously going through some kind of performance anxiety that no words or prayer from me could sedate.

Inglewood I will stop, Inglewood, water, breeze. She’ll be right.

At the garage, my car looked more like a doobie than an automobile.

The word on Inglewood’s dusty desolate main street is a young fella is heading to Melbourne with a fucked alternator, radiator and fan belt.

I guess they’re right, the best laid plans of mice and men are destined always to be initial failures.

Hopefully soon the sound of perseverance will blare from my car speakers yet again.

Keep the faith…

Inglewood Pop (+1)

Sprouted from seed an everlasting tree

Its branches stretch from here to nevermore

Casting darkness across and abroad

You are in this dream

Dreamt by the dreamer

Given the gift

A leaf from the tree

You are the light to shine on forever

This is but a dream

                            This is but a dream                            

Oh what magnitude can one perceive?

That this is all a dream, this is all a dream

As lucid as the sky

And as meaningful as the sea

You are but a leaf

Floating in the breeze

The Cats held off a tough fight back from Adelaide to kick a 6-0 goal final quarter, sealing Geelong’s fourth consecutive win for the season.

Steve Johnstone opened the account for the Cats kicking the first goal before a miraculous left-foot snap from Gary Ablett, the first of his some 46 possessions for the match.

Geelong led by 17 points mid way through the opening term with Joel Selwood and David Wojinski playing instrumental roles across half back in the absence of injured defender Darren Milburn.

The crows temporarily put the brakes on yet another Geelong demolition of the midfield with Onballer Scott Thompson pushing forward to score for Adelaide.

A highly efficient Geelong continued to push the ball through the corridor in a display that showed a Team dominant in playing man on man, close quarters footy to a game- finding space through the boots of the like of Rooke, Varcoe and Joel Corey.

But it was Ablett who did the most damage collecting a career high 46 possessions kicking 3 goals and dishing out 33 handballs, equalling the individual record set by Nathan Buckley.

A revered hush swept over AAMI stadium as the Cats booted five unanswered goals to start the second term.

 Off the back of a dominant win over the lack lustre Collingwood, Geelong continues to put sides away with the boots of Max Rooke and the superstar Gary Ablett.

Goals to Mackie, Blake and Shannon Byrnes saw the margin extend to 42 points before a surprising fight back from the crows with goals from Kurt Tippet and Taylor Walker got the Adelaide crowd back on its feet.

Adelaide live-wires Mackay and Porplyzia knocked the margin back to three goals before half time as Mark ‘Bomber’ Thompson told the Kitchen to put the salad roll on hold.

The Cats booted clear momentarily with goals to Stokes, Varcoe and Johnson and looked to be all but over, before Adelaide surged again in a display of tough gritty football that every Crow fan should be proud of.

Porplyzia, Walker and the ex-Geelong schoolboy footy star Patrick Dangerfield cut the margin back to 19 points for the Crows.

A gift goal to Cameron Mooney in the goal square saw the floodgates open and the spark from Adelaide’s new found perseverance begin to fade.

The final term saw Crow’s fans in their multitudes head for home as Joel Selwood kicked a goal within 17 seconds.

Geelong kicked two more quick goals through Chapman and Stokes finally ending the torture for Adelaide, cruising to a 48 point victory and sending a clear warning that Geelong is on its way to premiership form.

ADELAIDE  3.2  7.2  11.6  13.8 (86)
GEELONG  5.1  10.2  14.5  21.8 (134)

Voting day for the 2009 Qld state election was in full swing and like the 70 per cent of voters recorded by the Australian Electoral Commission who turn out in force between 8 and 11 am, I planned to vote early and return to a normal life as quickly as possible.

It was the first time I would be voting in Queensland and for a seat holding so much significance for the ALP’S stronghold over Australia. Both Anna Bligh and Prime Minister Kevin Rudd call South Brisbane home as their electorates.

This year’s election was a two-horse race right from the beginning. Ten days before the vote, opinion polls proved diligent populist campaigning methods by both Anna Bligh and Lawrence Springborg were paying off.

The ALP leader was receiving campaign pledges from Unions and Commonwealth funding from the Prime ministers federal budget while Lawrence Springborg had an ace in the hole in that of billionaire mining magnate Clive Palmer, The Courier-Mail reported.

The same paper ran a story shortly before the election describing the confusion an American gold coast resident had with our democratic process, “I don’t know who the candidates are in my electorate … and all we ever hear about are Bligh and Springborg,” the Gold Coast resident told The Courier-Mail.

This has become an increasing trend of political campaigning in Australia and as Dr Paul Williams, a lecturer at the Griffith University on the Gold Coast told The Courier-Mail, “That’s both a shame and dangerous . . . it dumbs down politics”, he said.

“The issues don’t seem as important as leadership and party image,” Dr Williams said.

From the construction of an AFL stadium at Carrara, the looming doom of an expected high unemployment rate and the opposition leader’s promise of a billion dollar surplus in the face of a global financial crisis to the ‘Borg’s’ promise to commence uranium mining in Queensland. No one could blame an environmentally conscious footy mad journalism student for lodging their application to vote at the Australian Electoral commission with post haste.

But after this initial sense of satisfaction in participating in the democratic process had worn off, I couldn’t help but ask myself, why did I bother?

It all started in Greece. A system was born ensuring that not only could un-wanted citizens be removed by methods of ostracisation and deemed “de-necessary”. But the birth of democracy was forged which allowed members of every class to vote and play a role in the issues that affected them.

For Themistocles, the military genius and democratic visionary of the Greek Empire see the evolution of his idea some 2,500 years later become a high school class, presidential-style popularity race. It could be forgiven if he questioned where such a process was developed, and whether or not the Roman educative tours to learn of Greece’s democracy had gone astray.

Election night came and went like a passing storm. The ALP were all smiles as Anna Bligh seized a convincing enough win to form government and become the first female elected to become a Premier in Australia.

The Beattie dynasty was now complete and as David Carlyon an ALP local branch member described, “It’s very hard for a government in power after 11 years when people want change”, he said.

“We did better than we expected, we held seats that we thought we were going to lose, you hear rumblings on the campaign trail,” he said.

The ALP had orchestrated yet another stranglehold over the Australian political landscape with a calculated campaign that saw Lawrence Springborg run out of punches.

“I am happy with the campaign, I’d probably say for both sides the ads weren’t effective,” Mr Carlyon said.

With optional preferential voting playing the major role in this election, allowing voters to not only ‘Vote 1’ for their desired candidate but rank in order their preferences of others parties. It was assured my vote was going to the Labor camp, an ace in the hole that not even Clive Palmer or the “Borg” could parry against. But what it means to vote will be different for some people even if the outcome is almost rest assured.

“It makes me realise that you can make an impact, when you see people lose their seats it really shows that local policy and good candidates are important,” Mr Carlyon said.

A bushfire, milk bar robbery and local pub being gutterd by fire were the dramatic events that I witnessed on my journey up the Newell highway. They became a clear indication of the wealth for news that surrounded me and the possibilities that exist through the door that is Jschool.

Open the door….