Thirty years ago – when I was driving a fruit-delivery truck and was a messenger for the CT — I thought there must be an easier way to put myself through law school at ANU. So as a temporary measure I applied for a full-time position as a cadet journalist on the CT.
I was answering the editor’s array of general knowledge questions reasonably well, until he asked me, “”Where are the Limestone Plains?”
I told him I could not hazard a guess and he politely told me, “”You’re sitting on them.” I thought it would be the world’s shortest journalism career and roared with laughed. “”Well,” he said, “”If you have got a good general knowledge and sense of humour you might make a good journalist. You can start ON SUNDAY with a day off and report to the Chief of Staff on Monday.
The day off was a ploy to all the COS to roster me for 10 days without a real day off.
But in fact, every day was a day off. For 30 years, it has been a hobby every day, a joy not a labour.
So a couple of weeks ago when the new general manager after being in the place for just 2 weeks before giving me and Robert Macklin the flick was at least correct in thinking I was grossly overpaid.