Why do I have a fat radio voice?

Apart from Steve "Sex on Walkley legs" Cannane (whom I had the great fortune of sharing a cafe with this arvo, he likes his flat white on skim...not as wangy as soy anyways..) pictured at left,I have always been greatly disheartened, upon seeing radio presenters in the flesh for the first time.


They're always uglier..or fatter than you may have envisioned from their on-air persona..there's a lot to be said for that age old label applied to that "face for radio"...


Apparently this is generous of my mental artist to paint such a favourable image, and the opposite may be applied in my own case, in fact, as I discovered last night at the pub...


...But not - mind you - in a good or particularly flattering way that suggests that i'm too good-looking for it...


The week prior I made a concerted effort to go over and say g'day to a couple a dudes whom I knew by sight from 2ser, as they're always recording in Studio 2 after I am done with drive every tues..and finally apply names to faces, etc...


So, John, who smiled politely and promptly left, although forgetting what my actual name is, in fact revealed himself to be a regular listener of my show. 


The thing he couldn't get around was how I actually appeared in the flesh following a distinct mental build-up of my physique..


Intrigued, to know what he was envisioning instead of what was on display, I ask John, "Preytell, what did you think I looked like, by the by?" His response(!):

"Well, i thought, you were a lot....errrr....bigger..."

 I have never published any pictures of myself on anything really, I am already filled with hardcore dread whenever that fateful advisory email: "You've been tagged in an album, called..." on facebook.


This is a once-only exception - I promise - of rear-end idea of how I look, as pictured at right looking intently at some of the psychedelic memorabilia to feature at the Melbourne museum special seasonal exhibition all about drugs..it was a great way to make up for the fact they had taken down the Neighbours exhibit that delighted me and my sis so much the last time we visited the fairer city..


Now I am left to the peril of your scathing judgement over the proportions of my derriere..then get me a pizzzaaaaa....grrr...now i wonder, what a fat voice may be...


Please advise..

Why migspace was taking back seat..and now it's ridin shotgun

In the vain hope of communicating with whomever originally stopped by for s scathing once-over, I return to the post of self-obsessed web-publishing abuser


in a bizarre moment where I am not - refreshingly - obsessing over ways in which a group of year 6 girls may debate over the virtues of whaling, or hounding some self-proclaimed media expert or the like for a 4th Estate story (this, in fact is not due to any great virtuous act of my own, but more the fact that there is absolutely shit-all to report on in the "maligned democracy" that is our 4th Estate..


Oh, wait, except of course that awesome coincidence of Herald Sun revelation of lil drug moll jr. Dakota Williams goin to some poxy private school - and off our hard-earned tax dollar, fancy! -  but, dang, turns out some lil bastardo already has sorted out this role of media in the death of underworld serial killer, Carl Williams...Case closed, I revert back to the medium partly responsible for killing the industry...


And goatie is a case in point, just how the bloody hell does this "footage" denote even the slightest inclination towards cinematographic merit, almost any youtube clip would boast greater credits...


I believe that it was Leunig that regaled the existence of this deadly assassin, in his book "Goatperson" he pens a poem that concludes..

Good morning, well connected, Goat!

Parental guidance only required in cases of hyper-imagination...


This is all of great concern as I have been in an extremely casual position of radio producer for all of a couple a months and even since then, the signs seem all to point against any potential for a hip and happenin shock jock wannabe as myself..apparently it's all a boy's club, so dang, I am in fact, in the hardcore throes of repressed opression..


But, hey, in fact, I am no longer spending lusty and longing nights in the company of the saucy Spaniard cleaner (whom, for lack of imagination, have dubbed, "Rosa") emerging via secret passageway slinking her way around 2ser, adorned in neon rubber gloves and a world-wearied frown...what with her and the graveyard blues man KK, it was becoming quite the intimate occasion..


What this in fact means is that my sanity levels are increasing with improved production measures of 4th Estate..but hey judge for yourself if you so desire, i enforced a twitter reportage ban awhile back now, so don't think that this is in anyway an inspired or new idea in media reportage..


So, now, I turn back to the old faithful, typing ground that doesn't break off with a dazed look of befuddlement as I continue on in digression...(today on the show was a corker, going from Melbourne Talk Radio to pharmaceutical conspiracy based product placement, although, on paper, it doens't seem like such a stretch..)


So, watch this (mig)space, more shall evolve, including the most amusing anecdotal part of my life, my role as debating coach for Year 5, 6 and 12 girls belonging to one of the most opulent and grandeur educational institutions (the term school doesn't quite cut it here..) that my skanky Newy past has never quite readied me for...


Receiving critical acclaim for excellence in the field of Friday-night pub banter: a startling insight into the pageant world of North Sydney debating competition...expect a wordpress blog, "Mass-Debating"...bedtime now, methinks...

Why shouldn't I aspire to be the doctor's wife???

It seems that because I have a set of (genuine) tits, I am therefore required to take a hardcore on-air stance come International Women's Day - May 8, and NOT as I mistakenly babbled at 5:59pm this arvo, next Monday. 


I must take the chair habitually occupied by everyone's favourite ranga and music trivia host, Al Erskine, whilst trawling over the likes of websites which advocate the breast-feeding of puppies...These inherent bottle-fed issues are certainly crucial to the notion of women over the likes of my own feminine guiles, surely..? 


This would in fact, be 1 March and seemingly appears numerically and chronologically superior to the following 8 March.


However, I am apparently a woman of great disregard, to promote its existence in a false or misleading  manner by which, come Monday, poor old Al may have to close that browser window in order to assert his masculine presence..


Not to mention the fact that I sound somewhat like a male, albeit a vaguely castrated one, as well as the death stares I managed to direct squarely at self by suggesting we all incinerate our bras whilst dancing around skyclad chanting nonsensical statements of feminist affirmation...


But I want to be a kept woman!!! Hence, I am a fraud...


But hey, when it gets to the point in your life when you march defiantly past the fluro vested Centrelink earners, muttering: "Mate, I've got bigger issues..." and you owe the debt equal to a house deposit on Bugger All (excuse me, I mean, extensive Tertiary education....) and the extra hit of the Master in Bugger All and bugger all to speak of, can you blame me for checking whether my GP's is wearing a wedding band????


I don't think I quite epitomise a young Germaine Greer...though I do agree with her post Hormone Repalcement Therapy treatment ideas: Steve Irwin asked for it!


I may, at this stage, need to point out that I do, in fact, love and adore MY FAV RANGA AL! The master of trashy drunken post-show trivia!

Why you have to be tuned into Overdrive

Syphilis, street parties, new spaces and new segments

This week on Tuesday Overdrive, the show's title will prove rather apt.with the new year well into the swing of it, all segments are resembling Metamucil-induced regularity...


4.30pm will see me facing off with the Pobs about his latest Podcast episode, Gather Around Me, featuring Cam "Sexenheimer" Smith, as they manage to leave Tony Abbott out of it for at least five minutes whilst quibbling over the "syphilis holocaust"...


Plus from 5.00pm -  ARTY-FACT goes double time as we take back the streets of Newtown with this Saturday's Street Party hosted to celebrate art and music without all those backfiring cars...as I am having a brief chat with the awesomely named, Chris Lego, who is partly claiming the reclaim...

and a catch up with Gaffa Gallery director, Kelly Robson, about the hot new premises - which shall be revealed this Thursday - hosting the years (and the space) debut exhibit FIDELITY... 


If there's time, I shall launch the long-awaited (for me, anyways) segment - MUSICAL MICROSCOPE - but just in case, I'm posting the pilot episode just for you migspace-heads..


107.3FM 4-6PM - 2SER.COM (LIVE STREAM) - TUESDAY OVERDRIVE
xx

Why Children Should be Seen and Not Heard

They especially aren't worth hearing if they are as determined as this young whipper snapper, like so many other young and socially deprived pubescents with a knack for robotic like communications.

Kind of along the lines of Stephen Hawking (but who could argue, the guy is damn smart...he managed to summarise the history of time AND used his subsequent fame to seduce his nurse... how cliched!)

As usual, I digress, this was a story posted on the excellent National Public Radio (NPR) site. Check out the story, here! 

Why did you bother with the JJJ 100!!???

So, we are all aware of the culture inherent to Australia Day, much akin to that of Cup Day, basically requiring all patriotic participants to get inebriated and carnivorous, quite often, to the background sounds (and betting pool) of the hottest 100...

And, as predictable as this countdown may have become of late, it hardly takes it quite so far as the all important #1 was leaked onto an ABC website way ahead of time....it's all like Mumford and what now?

I feel out of the loop with all hip in musical popularity, but I don't recognise this tune by its title, and I certainly wouldn't have felt in any way vindicated by the crappy pseudo-surprise of getting them to play it live in the studios. This is what happens, j, when you leave important work to the likes of kiddies...even if they are tapping into the slowly declining age demographic..

Oh Mig, so bitter, so obviously seething with envy over a lack of listenership for her own pezzy lil show on Tuesday - and yes this may in part, be true - she has a go at them poor j bangers...yeah well, suck it up, I say, you wouldn't have picked what I had playing on the show...

But fear not, (I tell this to myself more than anyone else...) for here's a nice true blue ocker lookin tape in green n gold so you can enjoy the talks based stuff which doesn't see me in court if I publish it...

ON TUESDAY OVERDRIVE LAST WEEK, AUSTRALIA DAY:

I was reunited with the Pobs as well as catchin up with major success story: Oh Mercy, as they grace our presence for the St. Jerome's Laneway fest...in its new, completely anti-laneway venue of Callan Park!!

Why Barry Crocker is true blue

Yep, I held the utmost in journalistic honour and prestige recently, when granted an interview spot with the one and only ocker icon that is BARRY CROCKER!! Gracing my Overdrive show slot usually reserved for the likes of (the rather bludgey) Ben Pobjie last Tuesday at 4.30, was the self-dubbed, "Last of the Entertainers" (incidentally the name of the show he was there to plug in the first place) obviously no modest stranger to the likes of self-endorsement...


It was hard to stop the man once he got goin bout his lengthy career - which has spanned over some 4 decades consistently - and all that goes with it: the 33 (yes, count 'em) gold records; the sleazy affairs; the height of the jazz movement and what his alter-ego, BARRY MCKENZIE, would make of our dear PM, Kevin Rudd (incorrectly) quoting him during that infamous "sauce bottle" quote...


So check it out, here's the interview (with a few tactful edits here and there...) and don't forget where we all come from, fair suck of the sav bottle!

Why-red (get it..?!)

The Wire is: (clockwise from back) Michael Edwards, Matt Lane Shevonne Hunt (Producer), Justin Ellis, Marcus Coombs, Mig Caldwell, Paige Nguyen, Mark Robinson (Talks Producer)

THE NEW MEDIA ROUND

Stories that I've produced throughout 2009 - for 2ser's national talks programming The Wire and 4th Estate - have officially inaugurated me into the Twitterati...thank god I was around to cover such hard-hitting stories as online pimping and sexting...

Why not, YACHT?

YACHT: Not as in pleasure cruiser, but an acronym: Young Americans Challenging High Technology toured Australia recently off the back of the mystical 2009 album release

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