If you think politics and sport don't mix, try politics and sweet
chili sauce.
I speak from experience. Deadline was fast approaching
for last week's Free Times, and Janine and I were struggling to land a
big one for our landmark first 'white paper'. (By the way, thanks for
the overwhelming thumbs up for the new paler paper. I was anxious to
see what you thought of it, and by and large, you either cared for it,
or you didn't care less.)
When an invite landed on my desk to attend
a dinner-fundraiser with Barnaby Joyce, I was theoretically excited.
Only theoretically, because while Barnaby is media gold, the invite
was for Tuesday night. The press would be itching for action by the
time I filed the story. I hopped in the car, fully intending to do
my interview, abstain from dinner, and head straight back to the
office. Wouldn't you know it, as soon as I had settled into the
driver's seat I felt hungry. Then I had a call from the organisers
of the dinner to say the Senator would be late. I formulated a plan
to shoot into the fastest of the fast food joints in Stanthorpe, the
McDonalds, and arrive pre-fed and prepared. To a point, the plan
worked. I bought something I figured had the least sugar, cholesterol
and gluten in Maccas, a chicken wrap with sweet chili sauce. Eating
when you are hungry is a bad idea, like smacking children when you are
angry...as I was about to discover. I went to the International Club,
and spoke with National party faithful gathered to hear one of the few
politicians of any colour who is prepared to go against his own
party's policies in public. Barnaby, who I first met before he went
to Canberra, arrived with the masses, meaning I was going to have to
cut my interview short or risk the ire of 150 diners. I set up my
laptop, as I don't like to record interviews, and my notetaking is so
dodgy it might as well be written in invisible ink; in that it cannot
be read shortly after being committed to paper. There I was feeling
all very important and ready to probe the Senator about the events
unfolding in Canberra that day (the gloriously named Godwin Grech had
admitted from a Canberra psychiatric hospital that he had faked the
email about Kevin Rudd's ute-giving friend)...
Senator Joyce is very direct.
It's one thing we all like about him. Except when we have
sweet chili sauce in our beard, and he points it out. I was so
embarrassed, I almost felt like shaving. Almost.
