wallydownundy

by guest author Victoria White

On Sunday night the Prime Minister Julia Gillard took on Opposition Leader Tony Abbott, in the one and only live debate of the Australian Federal election campaign. Commentators called the debate a draw, and therefore a win for the opposition, whilst live audience tracking made it clear: the women preferred the smooth talking, neatly coiffured PM, whilst the men preferred the alpha strength of the opposition leader.

In the end Julia won on points, but it was Tony who’d narrowed the expectations gap and off they went to the marginal seats where the sniping continued around climate change, immigration figures and cost of living pressures.

 Then, late on Tuesday night Channel Nine broke the news of the first election scandal. It was revealed that as Deputy Prime Minister, Ms Gillard had argued against a rise in cash for age pensions and parental leave because ”old people never vote for us”. The responses from Labor HQ appeared disingenuous whilst Tony Abbott, who’d fought his own party for an increase in paid parental leave was able to tout himself as the only leader looking after families.Labor were quick to point the finger at the newly deposed ex-PM Kevin Rudd as the source of the leaks, but both the Prime Minister and Opposition Leader were keeping quiet, preferring to continue a campaign of ‘issues and substance’.

The biggest issue of the week? Julia’s front cover issue of the classic, must-read mag, The Australian Women’s Weekly, of course.                

Australia is in full election mode. Prime Minister Julia Gillard called the poll for 21 August just last Saturday. Now the airwaves are full of bickering leaders and freshly-kissed babies. If we need more serious content, we can watch PM hopeful Tony Abbott judge talent competitions on Channel Nine. Apparently songstress Kylie Minogue got through, but dogs dancing in tutus got the gong.

This is the stuff of which nations are built.

To help us better understand the policies of each leader, one national debate has been called for this Sunday evening. Then we’ll hear the promises and policies of the Labor and Liberal leaders. Gillard’s promise to clamp down on population growth goes head-to-head with Tony Abbot’s call for billions of dollars of savings. Finally - substance!

Yet before we rush to embrace this vision of democracy in action, there’s been a fly in the soup. A real big, popular, crowd-pleasing fly in the soup.

Channel Ten is now home to one of the highest ranked shows in television history. “Master Chef” is a reality competition program where aspiring cooks compete for the ultimate prize - adoration from millions of strangers and gushing acceptance on broadcast television. (Amazingly in a USA survey, high school students were asked how they would fund their retirement - 50% said with the winnings of a reality TV show.)

But here’s the conundrum. “Master Chef” is on at 7:30 pm and that’s the time the debate was scheduled. What to do? National politics and the future of Australia, or the conclusion of a cook-off?

To satisfy the national appetite, the debate time has been changed. So now we can have our debate and eat it too.

In the last two thousand years so much has changed, and yet so little. Saturday I watched “Gladiator” again and am reminded of the Roman senator’s comments as Russell Crowe prepared for a nation-winning battle:

“I think he knows what Rome is. Rome is the mob. Conjure magic for them and they’ll be distracted. Take away their freedom and still they’ll roar. The beating heart of Rome is not the marble of the senate, it’s the sand of the coliseum. He’ll bring them death - and they will love him for it.” - The Gladiator

In two thousand years what’s changed? Perhaps now it isn’t “bring them death” but instead “bring them death by chocolate.”

Friendships are easier in the digital age. Instead of long letters to two or three people, I post an update and voila - all my friends know what’s happening. Ethan’s soccer team won on Saturday! We had a family reunion in Richmond on Sunday! Man do I hate cold Monday mornings! Too easy!

Friendships are harder in the digital age. My friend Jenny left Australia last month and she’s living now in Chicago. I see her postings and add witty retorts. She asked: “Need suggestions…..what type of car would be best for living in Chicago?” Numerous comments flowed - most of them practical and plain. I got creative:

Now it’s 24 hours later and Jenny hasn’t replied. She’s not been on Facebook and hasn’t added to the conversation. So immediately I feel a need to un-friend her. How am I to maintain a friendship thousands of miles apart?

That last question is extremely selfish. I myself have changed continents four or five times. I’ve left established friend networks to take up new jobs in new cities. And now that I am the one left behind, I feel the raw anger and disappointment that comes from losing a friend.

Friendships in the digital age are no easier and no harder. They require effort and upkeep. You lose people to new cities, new jobs, new opportunities. But you make new friends.

Perhaps the lesson is that you need to calibrate your expectations of friends. Jenny is busy settling into a new city. She has no network and is busy unpacking, finding a school for her twin boys, finding a new hairdresser - all the challenges I am intimately familiar with.

I’ll continue to send witty missives - and look forward to the day we can laugh over them together. What’s a good time of year to visit Chicago?

I’ve been in Auckland for two days now and no one has stuck out their tongue, crossed their arms, bent their legs and started chanting. Why is it Australians immediately think of the Haka - the warrior dance performed before rugby games?

Instead I have been wonderfully impressed with the capabilities of the local public relations industry. Eleven\PR is co-located with our partners WHYBIN\TBWA\TEQUILA. They have a great track record representing leading brands - global and local. What most impressed me was their ability to develop unique events that gain their clients widespread coverage.

I hope to be back soon. I’ll let you know if anyone goes Haka on me!

In Australia we get to change Prime Ministers when we want. It’s a rejuvenating experience - much like dropping weight or buying a new outfit. Out with the old! In with the new!

And if a week is a long time in politics, eight days is surely longer.

Just that many days ago a leadership spill saw Prime Minister Kevin Rudd shuffled from the top job to the very last row in Parliament. His new seat - in restaurant terms - is jammed between the kitchen and the toilets.

The night before I was in Canberra and checked into my hotel late at night - just as Kevin came to the lectern to defiantly announce he was proud of his achievements and would defend his role. That very night Julia Gillard was caught in the hallway by the media flock. With ashen face she said she would be contesting the leadership in the morning. It was a terrible image - pale, unhappy, caught in the cross-hairs.

Now we have a new Prime Minister - and the central issue that brought down Kevin Rudd has been successfully resolved. The front page of The Australian shows Gillard striding with immense confidence.

From a media relations perspective, this is another example of how reporters, editors, layout artists and photo editors work to present a holistic story. There’s no confusing the message here - Julia is on top of in Australia!

Running a professional services firm is a constant guessing game of “What If?” While a vast majority of our clients are on retained programs, with set fees month after month, some are project-based. We are uncertain how the business will fluctuate month to month.

And as a growth business, we’re also engaged in a number of new business discussions. These are companies we’ve not worked with who wish to retain our services - or those of another firm. We need to plan the resources for each.

Our resource is the time of our professionals. And like any resource it is finite. There are so many hours int he day, and so many people working here. The math is quite simple. And before long, you run out of people and hours.

Like manufacturing, I can search for efficiencies. Less double-up in meetings. Smarter allocation of work from senior to junior professionals. Use of technology to suicken repetetive processes, whether that’s a report on the day’s newspaper headlines of a summary of work in a month.

But unlike manufacturing, I cannot pre-purchase machinery in advance of work orders. People aren’t as readily available and if they aren’t busy with clients, it’s a squandered resource. Yes, everyone can help with running and promoting the company. But that’s not the most effective use of valuable skills.

So most of the time managers in charge of an agency play “What If?” What if we secure the new client assignment? What if our existing client delays or cancels a major project? What if we have several people out sick? (Last week we lost seven people simultaneously to a virulent flu.)

Lately I’ve been silently planning for a major piece of new business. We’ve been preparing our strategy during the days, evenings and weekends. And initial signs are encouraging. That’s forced me to look at office space, technology, people, resources. In quiet I’ve found space for eight new desks, interviewed ten people and prepared a capital plan for new technology. And that’s all without the certainty of success.

The problem is, if you don’t play “What If?” then later down the track you’re forced to deal with “What Now?” In almost every instance I would prefer to be prepared. So it’s back to planning - but don’t tell anyone.

How many of us have the tenacity and determination to leave Facebook? It’s like peaking over the neighbour’s fence. We see photos of the kids and who is in a relationship. We get a status update the moment that relationship ends. I’ve reconnected with high school students I hadn’t seen…well…since high school. And I’ve updated everyone in my network on the minutiae of my life (Ethan’s lost tooth, our holiday to the Gold Coast).

So why the growing movement? And why the global drive to deplete some of the 400 million users? Already the dedicated web site has 13,638 people willing to close down their accounts (see Quit Facebook Day).  It all centres on privacy.

In a public forum like this blog, I expect all and sundry to visit. In fact when my FireStats show a decrease in readership I worry. Wasn’t I wry enough? Did I lack relevance? If it weren’t for the trawling public I’d be another lunatic speaking to himself in solitude. (Now I’m a lunatic surrounded by readers!) Same with Twitter. These are public forums.

The disappointment with Facebook is the public-private conundrum. My Facebook account is private. I don’t allow work colleagues in. For them, there’s Linked In. But Facebook allows me to select who I share information with - or so we thought.

In an attempt to monetise Facebook, leaders at the site have created trapdoors in each and every person’s profile. That allows Facebook to share your data with advertisers. They can then tailor their materials to your specific interests.

And more and more, Facbook makes it harder and harder to find these trapdoors and seal them shut. Just when you’ve navigated the maze of Options and User Settings, the list is changed and you’re required to re-enter the labyrinth. Amazingly people often give op - and leave their trap doors swinging in the breeze.

So the cutting edge of technorati have finally tired of the game. They’re unwilling to have their personal data sold and exchanged. And they’re leaving Facebook - if not in droves, then in dribbles.

For the public, it won’t take the protestations of the electrified elite. Instead one more blunder by Facebook and their site will become tomorrow’s MySpace. An erroneous advertiser shoots off a dating site offer to members of a religious site? Or Moms are urged to visit a swinger’s site? Or worse?

Sooner or later the hand that has fed Facebook will be bitten - and by then it will be too late. But for now the scurrilous behaviour of ever-evolving privacy settings is the clearest signal. Facebook cannot be trusted.

In my years in an office, I’ve never witnessed such a fast-acting and widespread contagion as has attacked our office this week. In a team of 16 there were seven sick. What was surprising was the speed and ferocity of the illness. Within a day I went from fully functional to flat on my back. This must be the contagion that scared the World Health Organisation. While we’ve not had tests to confirm, if it looks like a pig and acts like a pig, then this must be swine flu.

One hundred years ago the world was hit by a deadly virus.

The Spanish flu pandemic hit a world ill-equipped to handle maladies. Doctors were trained to Victorian era standards. Pharmaceuticals were nowhere near today’s grade. Masses of young men were barracked together in preparation for deployment to World War One. Add to that mix a fast moving flu and you have deadly consequences. Between 50 and 100 million died, and those most targeted were young and healthy. Today scientists are still trying to calculate the death toll.

Just 101 years later the World Health Organisation issued its strongest advisory possible for H1N1 - also known as Swine Flu. This fast traveling flu mutated from a fresh source - meaning any antibodies developed to previous flus were worthless. And just as in 1908 our office lost its young and healthy workers. While we were fine and working one day the next we were home racked with coughs, fever and lethargy.

Thankfully the strain hitting Sydney is nowhere near as lethal as 100 years ago, because if it was, I’d be dead.

I’m tough on myself. There’s a lot I don’t like. I’m too broad around the midsection and my forehead has some permanent wrinkles already. (And no, it’s not due to constant surprises!) Then I look back and think there’s more I’d like to change. Perhaps a different alma mater? Higher GPA in high school?

Too bad I never met US Senate-hopeful Richard Blumenthal.

This wanna-be elected official in Connecticut seems to have fabricated portions of his career. Here’s a great video taken in 2008 – look for the catchphrase, “…from the days I served in Vietnam…”

Seems reasonable, no? Problem is all of his experience was States-side following a record five deferments.

So. One lie. Is that all?

As investigators pour over Dick’s record (why is it always a politician named Dick?), more anomalies appear. He says he was captain of the Harvard Swim Team. Now that might have been plausible if Blumenthal actually was on the team. Seems Dick wasn’t on the team he purported to captain. Oops.

In the face of mounting evidence and criticism, Richard Blumenthal has wedged himself into the corner of denial, stonewalling and obfuscation (”Here’s a video link where I accurately cite my Vietnam experience”).

So now I think. If I could re-make myself a la Blumenthal, what might I change? Maybe I won the Bermuda’s Cup in 1982. Perhaps I was founder of a major national charity that helps homeless youth. Or could I have been considered as the first non-scientific crew member of the Atlantis Space Shuttle.

No matter what I’ll have lost four inches off my waist and restored my smooth forehead. That’s my mimunum entry point for re-fabricating myself a la Blumenthal.

Dick. Is that you?

This morning I’m in a Brisbane hotel room listening to Nick Clegg, leader of Liberal Democrats in the UK, on BBC TV after forming an alliance with the Conservative Party to form a government. The uncertainty of the last five days is over and finally England has a new Prime Minister. (It isn’t Clegg but instead David Cameron as his Conservative Party - aka The Torries - had more votes.)

Just yesterday the sitting Prime Minister, Gordon Brown of the Labor Party, had resigned. It was a last ditch effort to get Labor in a deal with the Liberal Democrats. Seems poor Gordon fell on his sword for nothing.

But while the machinations were underway in the UK, over in Greece negotiations were underway to rescue that failed economy. (Oh, and in the USA the worst environmental disaster is still spewing oil.)

All this uncertainty has made the stock markets around the world plunge. Seemed we were on the verge of GFC 2.0 (Global Financial Crisis).

 So back in London - as their currency seesawed and the FTSE dove - it seems the Greeks did what history could never do. Today the Conservative Party and the Liberal Democrats are in government together.

My friend Phyllis is an animal lover who shares emails with heart warming photos. Today I received post-tornado images of dogs rescued. In one, the back seat of a car is covered with beagles and other dogs. In pops a cat - who is warmly welcomed. In the aftermath of a tornado, even a cat can find a home next to a blood hound. Is Clegg the cat? Cameron is definitely a hunting dog!

And whle the post-tornado photos does show species clinging together against instinct, in a few weeks the UK election tornado will pass. The cat would be smart to realise the love in transitory. Clegg is going to need to keep his claws sharp, as Cameron will come back to his senses and return to his hunting instincts!