Those whom the Gods wish to destroy they first make mad

Delusional man looks at tomatoes today

So I submitted my resignation this morning. I have no new job to go to. I'm returning to full time study at the Australian National University, hope to pick up bits and pieces of work where I can and use the comparatively meagre resources I have to support us. I think I can eke out two years. I'll either succeed with this bonkers plan or fail spectacularly. There is no Plan B but I intend to succeed.

In advance of the university year beginning next month I enrolled in a free, online course provided by the Open University. It's called Start Writing Fiction and encourages you to do what it says on the label. The course started today. 

One of the early exercises goes like this:

Write a paragraph (50 to 100 words) containing one fact and three fictitious elements. 

You can write about yourself, about your interests, about history – about anything you like. Then try the reverse – write a paragraph containing three facts and one fictitious element.

And this is how I responded (based on some previous attempts);

One fact, three fictitious elements 

There are lies, damned lies and - of course - there are statistics.  Everyone knows, statistically speaking, you’re more likely to be crushed to death by a vending machine tipping over than to be taken by a shark.  Except that out here, an hour east of the Whitsunday Islands, there are no vending machines of any shape, size or form.  Not one.  But I’ll bet my last soggy dollar there are more than enough sharks to go round.  Not far from here.  And this yacht is sinking.  I reckon we have an hour. 

Three facts, one fictitious element 

Four miles south-west of the Clachan Bridge, which some folk call the Bridge over the Atlantic, a five-minute ferry crossing takes you from the pier at Ellenabeich village to the island of Easdale.  It was there, on that slate outcrop, my mother gave birth at the height of the great storm in the winter of 1881.  As I entered the world, shrieking like a hungry herring gull, a monstrous wall of wild water breached the island’s sea defences, flooding the quarries.  Nothing thereafter could ever be the same.

I'm started.  As I hope to continue.  Writing.

It seemed like a good idea at the time

Worked through the night.  I should have left that way of being back there in my student days when I was young, lacked wisdom and could rely on black coffee to see me through.

Now ... I am just a wrecked, old hulk waiting for dawn to come and birds to sing.  So what if my work is further forward?  A week from now no one will care. Not even me.

The artist formerly known as Cat Stevens.  He'll see me through.

So today's speech seems to have worked ...

 ... at least for one participant.

Hearing Dougie Herd from @EveryAustralian hilariously sum up the #ndsconference Sign up to the campaign now! pic.twitter.com/6CaxLCmOG7
— NDIS MI Way (@NDIS_MI_Way) March 31, 2015

But who is that tired old man up on the Convention Centre screen?

Let the train take the strain

I sing of the joys of integrated, accessible public transport (with apologies to Walt Whitman).

We rose from bed at a ridiculous hour - not yet four o'clock.  There was a plane to catch at 6:20 a.m. to take us to Brisbane where I shall be the closing speaker tomorrow at the Queensland conference of National Disability Services.  (As usual, I'm far from sure what I'm gong to say).  To make that flight I need to start early - with Spike's help of course.  Folk like me always have to add on 'quad-time'. 

You work backwards from the deadline:

• The flight departs at 6:20 a.m.
• I have to check-in at least one hour before departure time because I'm a wheelchair user requiring assistance (in contrast to other passengers who may check-in with only 30 minutes to go).  So that means be at the check-in desk by 5:20 a.m.
• That means be turning the ignition key in the car no later than 4:45 a.m. (Transfer into the driver's seat - drive for 20 or so minutes, maybe half an hour - transfer into my wheelchair - push from the car park to the check-in lounge).
• Start getting out of bed at 4:00 a.m.
• Start 15 minutes before that just to be safe.

We made it to the airport by five, as it turned out (Canberra has very little traffic at half-past four in the morning) so we had a pleasant short stay in the QANTAS Club.  Chai latte and pancakes for breakfast.  Spike took coffee.  There are worse ways to start a working day.

After an effortless flight - effortless on our part, that is - we arrived in Brisbane shortly after seven, local time.  Queensland sees no need for daylight saving so we gained an hour or lost one depending on your preference for sleep at the other end of a day.

Spike, sketching on the Brisbane SkyTrain

We took the AirTrain service from Brisbane airport directly to the street on which the Convention Centre and our hotel are located.  How blissfully normal it was. What a shame Canberra airport has no accessible public transport connection of any sort! 

But how far we've come in my 30 years as a wheelchair user.  The airline's staff has been trained to assist people like me who can neither walk nor transfer independently.  The airport is fully accessible which means my route of travel was the same as that of other passengers.  I can't recall the number of times elsewhere - and in the past - I've been required to take a different route through the behind-the-scenes twists and turns of the hidden interiors of buildings like airports.  We took a lift and ramp up to the train station, paid for our ticket at the wheelchair-friendly counter, boarded the roomy train via the platform ramp and forty minutes later were wandering along the wheelchair accessible paths through the slightly surreal South Bank precinct - with its lawns, playgrounds, urban beach, cafes and empty performance spaces - adjacent to the Brisbane River.

One day most journeys, most transport services, most of the built environment will be this way; integrated and accessible.  Then we'll only have life to deal with - well or not so well - like everyone else.

And even more vanity

Himself.  Pic by Simone de Peak

This photograph accompanied Monday's story in The Canberra Times.  Now here's the thing.

I had never seen this photo before.  I do not remember it being taken (although I do remember having to rush round Myer's store in Adelaide less than two years ago to find a decent tie to buy because we forgot to pack any and I had to give a speech later that morning to 1,300 people at the National Rural Health Conference).   And I have no idea who Simone de Peak is, although with such a distinctive name I have no doubt Google will track her down in a nanosecond.

Rather atmospheric, don't you think?

Or grumpy?

Vanity, vanity. They name is ... Dougie

Busy day at day two of the NDS ACT conference, chairing three sessions (one delivered by my good friend Barbel Winter of Futures UpFront). But darlings, it's all about ME!!

Karen Southgate.  Pic by NDS

Here's me chairing a session on risk management presented by Karen Southgate, employee of NSW Ageing Disability and Home Care Agency and mother of a young man with disability who wants to jump out of an aeroplane.

Daniel Kyriacou. Pic by NDS

And there's me chairing a session on the crucial role of front line staff as marketeers in the new world of service delivery presented supremely well by the excellent Daniel Kyriacou.

Final panel discussion. Pic by NDS

And here's the stuck live-captioning screen recording for posterity my final words of the previous session (led by Barbel) while the important final panel discussion got underway.

I paid for all this vain bad karma later on.  Rolling up the ramp of my car in the convention centre car park I tipped over backwards, banged my skull on the tarmac and rolled out my chair.  Meg Savage, a former colleague from the National Disability Insurance Agency had to collar a passer-by - a conference delegate as it turned out - to help lift me back into my chair.

Nothing damaged but my pride we drove to Manuka where we met Spike and fellow former colleagues at the NDIA, Vanessa Attridge and Nigel Baker at Public Bar where we enjoyed a lovely, laughter-filled evening.  Drink was taken ... as we say in Scotland.

If it's in the paper it must be true ...

You forget, after a while, the gentle but unmistakable boost it gives your ego to be quoted in a media outlet - to be 'in the papers' (so to speak) because some reporter thinks you have something worth including in a story.  Today, after a prolonged period of absence from the press, I'm in the local rag, The Canberra Times.

My speech this morning kicked off the content part of the two-day National Disability Services ACT conference on the National Disability Insurance Scheme.  I'm pleased (and relieved!!) that the speech went over well.  Conference participants - from the conference organiser, through the NDIA Board's Chair (who was up speaking straight after me) and members of the audience to folk on Twitter - told me I did well.  That's always satisfying.

Some of the Twitter feedback read like this ...

At the #NDIS conference in ACT, @dougie_herd is rallying the troops by using Hawking's theories to show transformative nature of the @NDIS
— Evan Wallace (@evwallace2) March 22, 2015

this ...

A fantastic presentation by @dougie_herd at the NDS #ACTconference #NDIS
— Source Kids (@SourceKids) March 22, 2015

and this ...

Wow @dougie_herd that was an amazing speech on the #NDIS at the #ACTconference. Follow the live blog here http://t.co/6LQNkdcggs
— NDIS campaign (@EveryAustralian) March 23, 2015

Later in the day I was interviewed by Clare Colley of The Canberra Times.  Her article in the online version (I doubt it made the print version) with my couple of positive quotes can be read here.

Not a bad day's work, all things considered.

And just in case the newspaper culls old links, here's the text of the story.

People with a disability would be at risk of poor quality support and struggle to find a place with providers if service prices remain too low, a disability peak body warns.
Pricing has been just one of the problems identified in the rollout of the National Disability Insurance Scheme (NDIS) in the ACT, National Disability Services chief executive Ken Baker said.
About 650 NDIS participants, carers, and providers are meeting in Canberra for the NDS's two-day conference this week – the largest of its kind in the ACT.
When the NDIS roll-out began in the ACT last July, the territory's pricing was the highest in the country, but Dr Baker said the NDS felt service pricing especially for one-to-one support was inadequate across the country and negotiations were continuing with the National Disability Insurance Agency.

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"The price underpins service quality and choice, if the price is too low there won't be enough providers to offer services or the quality of service they will offer will be inadequate," he said.
"In general across Australia the new prices [under the NDIS] are less than providers have been receiving."
Transitioning from the ACT government funded system had also proved problematic with some providers forced to carry the financial burden when there was a gap before NDIS funds began, Dr Baker said.
The planning and assessment for NDIS participants was another area that needed improvement, with Dr Baker advocating for the role to be handed over to the non-government sector rather than the NDIA.
"I think it's reasonable the agency [NDIA] would want to check people's eligibility and allocate them an individual budget, but much of that discussion about what's the best way to support this person to achieve their goals is best taken place outside the agency with their family and service providers," he said.
Rather than the desperate lack of cash that strangled the sector previously, disability advocate Dougie Herd from Every Australian Counts said the new challenge was taking feedback from NDIS participants to ensure the scheme met their justifiably high standards and eased their anxieties.
"It's better for us to work to solve these problems of new support, growth and development rather than the old system in which the problem was really about when will we ever get enough money to meet people's needs," he said.
"All jurisdictions have been rationed by available dollars over the last 10 years or so."
Mr Herd said before the roll-out there were about 2500 people with a disability accessing the ACT system; the extra money made available under the NDIS would allow the number to double by the end of 2019.
While Dr Baker was confident all the issues will be ironed out as the ACT trial site transition continues, he said many questions surrounding the NDIS rollout could not be answered while the design of the scheme was still evolving making it difficult for organisations and individuals to plan.
"At present it feels like a construction site, it has all the promise and excitement… but all the frustration, disruption and problems of building something new while the plan is still evolving," he said.
Dr Baker said unlike other trial sites the NDIS roll-out in the ACT offered an opportunity to examine how people with a disability who missed out a full NDIS package could still access support.
While the number of providers in the ACT was sufficient for now, Dr Baker said as the scheme expands there will be room for more with interstate organisations already expressing interest.
Mr Herd said he expected new forms of service support to cope with the increasing demand.

I thought I left 'all-nighters' when I left university!!!!!

So ... big speech in the morning, making the opening address to 650 conference delegates at the National Convention Centre, Canberra.  I finally started to get an idea of what I might say and how I might say it early this afternoon.  It's a sign of how (uncharacteristically) nervous I am about tomorrow's presentation that I decided to write a text.  I usually don't.  I started writing around seven-thirty this evening.  I'm maybe half way through and it seems to be holding its themes and structure together, so that's a hopeful sign.  

Here is one thing for sure.  No sleep for me tonight.

The debate begins

At the Carers National Conference 2014, Day 3 - the whole event now I think of it - came to an end with an old-fashioned debate: Living to 130 - can we cope?  My job was to kick-off the case for the affirmative.  We won, although it wasn't the most serious session of those three days.



"And another point ..."

Speak softly and carry a big box of chocolates?

My thank you gift from the National Union of Students for speaking today at day three of its education conference.  I was asked to talk about the National Disability Insurance Scheme.  I covered everything from the bubonic plague and the Ordinance of Labourers of 1349 through to my observation that most lesbians don't testify to their sexuality by putting spots on their foreheads.  My generous audience lapped it all up then gave prolonged and stormy applause (as the Communist Party reprints of Lenin's better-known speeches used to note).  Spike opened the chocolates when she returned from her night out.  I'll pay for those unnecessary calories with extra time on my Titanic 800!!!! Three days in a row now since Spike installed it.  Let's hope it's a trend emerging.

Intermezzo

So, we were taken out to lunch by one of consultants.  it was a well-intentioned thank you to a customer.  Nice people shame about the meal.  It wasn't bad.  That much was true.  Average.  Ordinary.  Those are words that come to mind.  We were taken to Intermezzo in the old GPO in Martin Place.  My crispy skin snapper lay before me on a bed of black caviar lentils.  The fish seemed dry, devoid of any character, lacking in anything snapperish.  The lentils were greeny black and that's about as much as one could say about them.  The accompanying roasted potatoes bordered on the mushy beneath the skin.  If I'd wanted mash, I'd have asked for mash.  God, I'm sounding churlish and ungrateful.  What can I tell you?  Never going back.

Master of all he surveys

So I'm here.  I'm ready to start.  Master of the universe that I am I sit alone at the head of the table around which members of the Advisory Council of the NSW Lifetime Care and Support Authority will gather.  In two minutes?  May as well enjoy my tea and Tim Tam.  What else can the all-powerful Chair do?

Every Australian Counts

Aaaaarrrghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Need one say more?

Well ... there's another working week I'll never get back

from this week's New Yorker

So long, farewell ...

It's been my last full day in the office I've worked in for for a little over six years.  It was an odd way to bow out because not only will I leave but the office itself will be wholly gutted and re-built.  Ten days from now, when the team goes back in there'll be no trace of me.  I think that's probably a good thing.

Among other comments I made in an e.mail informing my colleagues of my departure I wrote these words.  I hope they mean something to the folk who are mentioned.

I shall miss the people I have come to know, respect and learn from during my time with Council.  It has been a privilege to meet so many deeply committed individuals who have contributed much (with great variety) as Council members.  It was a particular delight to support Andrew Buchanan through most of his period as Chair and I am greatly in his debt for the trust, respect and friendship he gave me throughout our working partnership.  His unswerving loyalty and advice were on occasions critically important to me in many ways that need not be re-hashed.  I am equally grateful to have worked alongside Emeritus Professor Ron McCallum, a colleague and now a friend whom I respect greatly.

As you may not be surprised to read, I want to say a very fond and heartfelt word or two of thanks to Amelia, Kristine and Marisa alongside whom I worked closely and well for periods that range from 2 to 5 years.  We have laughed a lot together in the office.  I have learned hugely from each of them and I will miss our daily contact very much.  It is very satisfying to do good work that you believe may make a difference to others, as I believe we have done.  But it is way beyond satisfying to be able to do so with work colleagues who make the thought of turning up to the office a pleasure, not a chore.  So thank you ladies. What will I do for corporate Toblerone or chilli basil noodles now?
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A day of new starts

We had a new colleague join us at work.  Day one for Adam and he has to help us put everything in the office into boxes in readiness for the re-furbishing that starts on Friday.  We'll have to camp out for 10 days and then get started again. But it's a less than ideal way to start your new job.

The Productivity Commission released its draft report on national disability care and support options: two volumes of closely argued case in favour of reform.  We'll be supportive.  Everyone in the sector knows though that the debate is just beginning and we all know few politicians are willing to put taxes up these days.

Day One of Semester One at university.  I'm taking two courses: Literature and Cinema & American Foundations.  The first lectures in both courses were fun.  For the first time in over thirty years I finally got Roland Barthes joke about Mort d'Auteur.  How planet-sized can my brain be if I hadn't thought properly about the simple fact that Barthes was French, writing in French.  I'm looking forward to the rest of the term.

I submitted Kaboom to Mark Stanton at Jenny Brown and Associates (literary agents) in Edinburgh.  Mr Stanton wrote back today saying if you don't hear from me within three weeks I'm not your agent.  Tick tock, clock ticking.

As usual, we'll see where tomorrow takes us.
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Busy day serving the public of NSW

From The New Yorker
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Does a job offer count?

A different Brutus probably

There is a tide in the affairs of men,
Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;
Omitted, all the voyage of their life
Is bound in shallows and in miseries.
On such a full sea are we now afloat;
And we must take the current when it serves,
Or lose our ventures.

(Brutus, Act 4, Scene 3; The Life And Death Of Julius Caesar)

Not liking Monday is no excuse

My first day in the office after a full month's break.  I can't remember the last time I had such a long period of leave.  The world of work was mercifully gentle with me though ... if you discount the half-hour phone call from a man who told me I had treated him unfairly, had acted unprofessionally, had humiliated him and led-him-on at personal cost to him.  That kind of call could happen any Monday so there's no need to go 'Boomtown Rats' simply because a slightly eccentric character is disappointed that he didn't get an invitation to an interview with us.

It helps, perhaps, to remember that I'm paid quite well to think, listen and talk sense.  I don't dig ditches, slaughter cattle in an abattoir, leap out of planes to parachute into enemy territory then kill people or clean public lavatories after a football match.  So what if I'd rather not have ended my holiday break? It's Monday.  Tomorrow there will be work to do.  So shut the fuck up with your complaining and get to bed.

We do not serve if we but stand and wait

Bring on night's soft embrace, its gentle touch
Which like the unrequited lover's kiss
Caresses not to fire the flames of bliss
But to arrest the soul excited overmuch
By dreams ambition's fingers fail to clutch;
By hopes our feckless schemes must miss;
By all the ways we yearn for more than this,
For lives of something more than such and such
Or this and that, here and there, now and again:
That great cacophony of nothing untoward
Muttered over dinner plates in dismal rooms;
That silent scream of "if not now then when?"
Drowning out the sound of youth's lost chord;
Resounding for eternity in old men's tombs.

Except that it would have been an almost wholly empty day if I had left it there at "get to bed".  Fortunately I heard the words "Bring on night's soft embrace" inside my tired head.  So I said to myself, write a poem; a sonnet, formal, following the rules (of the Italian rhyming scheme as it turns out).  It may not be up to Milton's standards but there it is, half an hour later, in iambic pentameters (give or take) and rhyming abbaabbacdecde.

Now go to bed.
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