Although he strenuously attends to the details of presenting himself as a conservative fellow, Stephen Long has never fooled me. And tonight, on LATELINE, Mr Long's rebellious essence filtered through his veneer of cautious demeanour, when he appeared for his mere 3 minutes of weekly glory, discussing matters economic with anchor Leigh Sales, SANS SPECTACLES!!!
The shock was writ large over Ms Sales' face:
Just how much can a girl take?
To those who only know Mr Long with his glasses on, here is the new naked truth:
A rebel is born…
The old Mr Long, bespectacled then (now laid to rest):
Generous to a fault, Mr Long has donated his now redundant glasses to the ABC's Memorabilia Department
Captioned text within pictures:
001: The perils of live visual current affairs presentation: Leigh Sales gets a frisson when Economics Correspondent Stephen Long exposes himself on LATELINE, 30th July 2010
002: Stephen Long, the ABC's usually modest Economics Correspondent, exposes his naked eyes to Leigh Sales, anchor of LATELINE, on the evening of 30th July 2010, for the first time, explaining her frisson.
003: Nostalgia aside, did the bespectacled Stephen Long, pictured here giving the economic lowdown to Ticky Fullerton on LATELINE on 23rd July 2010, have his mojo patently held back by those skulduggerous glass windows?
You've got to hand it to Tojo, aka SilverToes, for consistently turning out so well presented in his role as LATELINE anchor three nights a week on Australia's favourite Aunty, the ABC. And all without a stitch of white in his shirts.
Memo to Jonathan Holmes of Media Watch:
Always wear a tie Jonathan, not just sometimes! How could you not expect a serious effort in the half hour ahead, when you tune in and see a man turned out as smartly and professionally as Tony Jones always does? It's simple visual psychology, proven repeatedly, from day dot.
Use Tony Jones as your template – you could do worse.
Unless, Jonathan, you don't take your efforts, and the efforts of the Media Watch team behind you, seriously… A simple thing, a tie, for ten or fifteen bloody minutes once a week! Pretty please…
Before the PRIVATE interview, Lateline's co-anchor, Leigh Sales, conducted another one of her numerous memorable for all the right reasons interviews, this time with an icon among modern historians, Columbia University Professor Simon Schama, who had to be one of the most visually entertaining academics Lateline has ever had on.
Not content with treating us with his dynamic vocal fluctuations, Professor Schama wowed us all with a wonderful range of gesticulatory emphasis which drove home his softly uttered words in dulcet tones of considered analysis. This Marcel Marceau performance meant I would have watched him even if the sound failed.
It was as though, from the point of view of his exuberance, Graham Norton had graduated in History and was in the hot seat at Lateline; it was as though, from the point of view of kookiness, a levelheaded Barnaby Joyce had taken up History and was Ms Sales' guest on the subject.
And then there was the PRIVATE interview, in which Ms Sales demurely brought up the rumours of Professor Schama's being as camp as Gadaffi's tent…
More pictures coming…
Captioned text:
001: After Monday night's main interview with Professor Simon Schama on Lateline, March 15th 2010, discussing the Obama Presidency in a historical context, co-anchor Leigh Sales decided to get the usually staid Professor to lighten up, by tickling him under the desk with her foot.
002: "Professor, you doubtless have heard the rumours that you're as camp as Gaddafi's tent, but I don't believe that for a moment;" Ms Sales told the esteemed historian, adding, "in fact I find you a very charming if titillating, even yet living a life that is gay, brisk, and debonair, educated manly man."
Professor Schama thoughtfully considered Leigh Sales' compliment, all the while struggling to hold back tears.
003: "Oh, well thank you Ms Sales, and yes, I've heard the rumours," Professor Schama rejoined.
"You've probably read that on Payton L. Inkletter's blog, Fool's Paradise – Infinity on a Shoestring, but by golly, he's just a koala bear from Perth for heaven's sake!"
"A red-blooded bull koala by all accounts, though," Leigh Sales came in.
"By all accounts?" Professor Schama questioned. "It's not what I've heard."
"But what about Missus Inkletter?" Ms Sales returned, "A highly satisfied female, if you know what I mean."
004: "Hurrumph! Give me one independent reference to back that claim up Ms Sales," Professor Schama demanded.
"Well, er…, um, well, his veracity is highly regarded, and when you read his blog it's clear that he does his utmost to more than satisfy his wife's voracious appetite, if you know what I mean," Leigh Sales stumbled.
"No serious historian worth his manicured fingernails relies solely on one sadly suspect source for authenticity Leigh!" Professor Schama sweetly thundered, emphasising his sibilant esses.
005: "Okay, fair enough I suppose, but then how many independent sources would you accept?" Leigh Sales quizzed Professor Schama. "Bear in mind (pun intended) it's a private matter, so it could be challenging to verify."
Embarrassment, or perhaps an urge to giggle, began to mount in the shy professional journalist, and she did her best to conceal it behind a smile.
006: "Five!" Professor Schama boomed with not a moment's hesitation.
Realising that this could be impossible, Ms Sales' natural bargaining ability kicked in, doing the long line of her father's patriarchs proud, who earned the surname 'Sales' back in the mists of antiquity, throwing "Make it two?" at the academic.
"I'll settle for three, and not a source less!" he snapped back, struggling with the esses in the last two words.
007: Realising he'd gained the upper hand at last, Professor Schama decided to change the direction of this 'interview after the interview', and give free rein to his natural teaching predilection, the equal of Ms Sales' salesmanship predilection. "How about I teach you how to be more expressive during your Lateline interviews Ms Sales?" he asked-suggested with a beckoning smile impossible to decline.
008: Ever gracious, Ms Sales immediately agreed, asking "You mean using my hands?" to which Professor Schama came back, "Oh yes, and your arms and your face darling, but one thing at a time!"
009: "How's this Professor?" Ms Sales queried the learned gentlebody, diffidently holding her hands up a bit from the desk.
"Sweetie, that's a start I'll grant you, but I'm not moving my hand till you spread those fingers a bitsy witsy more and lift your handypoos a tad higher," Professor Schama snarled with all the threat of a hurling champignon.
It’s not often that the Canberra pollies loosen up enough to show their private selves, but see if you don’t agree that Leigh Sales, the ABC’sLateline co-anchor, successfully wiped clear a fascinating, if risqué, window into an unseen side of Minister for Employment Participation Mark Arbib and OppositionSpokesman on Immigration Scott Morrison during a rare RESTRICTED interview after the standard palaver tonight...
More pictures coming…
[Captioned text: 001: After advising viewers to send their kiddies to bed, ABC Lateline's Leigh Sales commenced her RESTRICTED interview - hot on the heels of the standard Friday night political Fight Club palaver - with Labor's Mark Arbib and The Liberals' Scott Morrison.
002: The lads, Mark Arbib on your left, Scott Morrison on your right, started out by trying to mirror the stance and moves of the other, a ploy which lasted but seconds, each thrown off by Leigh Sales' opening remarks…
003: “Which Muppets character would you consider the other to most resemble?” Ms Sales put to the pair, in a brilliant scheme to lull them into a false sense of security regarding the real direction of this RESTRICTED interview.
004: The two politicians studied each other to find the quintessential Muppet in the other striving to come out, all the while trying to stifle their urge to give vent to a guffaw, and thrown somewhat by the deadpan manner in which Leigh Sales asked the question.
005: However, their grasp on reality having not entirely slipped yet - due to some nefarious drink spiking done by Ms Sales a little earlier after their first interview (more on this later…) - they recollected their senses momentarily, and in unison put to Leigh Sales:
“You're taking a lend of us, right?” still in disbelief, adding
“We're parliamentarians Leigh, not flipping Muffins, er, Muppets!”
006: “I couldn't be more serious if I tried Mr Arbib, Mr Morrison, now surely you can actually answer a simple question in one go for once in your snivelly and blasted politically saturated lives?” Leigh Sales slipped, hissing in a controlled monotone, but one which could not conceal the years of frustration that had been building inside her from being at the mercy of countless oleaginous elected officials, intent on pushing her around, on shadow dancing around the issues.
However, her professionalism quickly reasserted itself, and she added, “Oh, forgive me boys!”]
What a welcome relief it is when our highly talented ABC journalists get to interview a truly interesting person outside of politics! Ticky Fullerton brought we the Australian public of discerning taste (Aunty’s faithful) a treasure of an interview this night with Sir Harold Evans, who holds the distinction of having been sacked by Rupert Murdoch, and I congratulate the old knight for this rare honour.
Ms Fullerton clearly enjoyed this opportunity to speak with Sir Harold, as did Sir Harold, and the resultant chemistry was joyetry in motion.
How many folk are left who read some of the first output from Gutenberg’s press, read by mammoth fat candlelight? Sir Harold has seen and done it all, covered in his memoir, ‘My Paper Chase’.
I would advise Ms Fullerton to conceal her cleavage next time she wins an interview with the old treasure, lest she be the cause of his expiry, albeit with a smile on his face, on screen. His missus, Tina Brown, would not be amused.
[Caption text: Radiating yet again, Ticky Fullerton gave us a treat with her interview with Editor at Large of The Week magazine, 81 year old Sir Harold Evans, on Lateline on 22nd October 2009.
It was a rollicking chat about Sir Harold’s life in newspaper publishing, thoroughly enjoyable, but I did sustain a low level of stress lest the dear old treasure should expire, not helped by Ms Fullerton’s inch and a half of exposed cleavage.
Somehow the old origami oracle made it through to the end, but I suspect he had to lie down to recover from Ms Fullerton’s abounding charms.
Congratulations and thank you to Ms Fullerton for drawing such pearls of wisdom, humour, direct speak, and appealingness from this doyen of newsprint; thank you Sir Harold for giving of yourself so generously for we Aussies’ enlightenment and entertainment; look after yourself and come back again!]
As mentioned in the text on the accompanying image, I was thrown so suddenly when I walked into the lounge and beheld Jonathan Holmes wearing a tie, that I hit the floor – fortunately carpeted – bumping my head, and was out like a light that’s just been turned off, or if you’d prefer, a low wattage flouro that just blew.
Well, perhaps that account is not entirely accurate: let’s say I had a frisson-like reaction, and upon recovery was left with a warm fuzzy feeling, but not sufficient to render me incapable of wondering what might have possessed the man to do such a sensible and simple thing; the answer might have something to do with his interviewing of ABC Managing Director Mark Scott, and so Holmes’ boss would likely watch his show tonight; then again, it may have been unrelated.
All I can say is, regardless of the serendipitous intersection of events that had Mr Holmes tying the Windsor Knot (unless he resorts to those elastic looped fakes): Jonathan, please make it a habit, for even though many of us of the hairier gender don’t like the things (we’d prefer to breathe), they are the iconic sign of well dressed men; human psychology will see to it, whether we like it or not, that you will be taken a bit more seriously in your presentation of what at times are – and often fairly so – scourging critiques of the inhabitants of the media jungle.
