Phillip Adams (26 page)

From despair to humour. I pulled out this missive from Ben, of Surry Hills in Sydney: ‘I am running short of a quid, so any ideas would be appreciated.'

Frances, of Footscray in Melbourne, wrote: ‘Thanks for your letter. I haven't laughed so much since my father nearly choked on a Christmas pudding charm back in '52.' She then described how she met ‘a most beautiful Indian' who took her to a curry restaurant in Carlton: ‘The curry was so god-awful hot that my eyes started to water and one of my micro lenses popped out and landed in the curry. I had three choices: to wash it in the wine, to suck it, or as a very last resort, to eat it. I ate delicately around it as it stared up malignantly at me from the plate. The pile of curry got smaller. The thought of walking around with only one good eye for the next three months until I saved up enough for another lens was so horrific that I started to cry. My Indian was alarmed but when I pointed to my lens glistening on the last bit of curry, he was quite magnificent. He snapped his fingers at a passing waiter. “Here, boy,” he said. “A glass of water for the lady.” The “lady” washed the lens and replaced it.'

The next letter I read closely was from a far-flung fan: Larry, of Maison d'Arret, Bethune, France, who wrote: ‘
The Weekend Australian
reaches me rather late, usually two months after publication. The Australian Embassy in Paris gathers up the old copies from the waiting room and sends them to Australians, like myself, who languish in French prisons. So it was only yesterday that I had the pleasure of reading your very fine article, “Taming the Dinosaurs”. It was of particular interest to me because I am being detained in France as a suspected terrorist.'

I began to wonder exactly how many letters and emails Adams reads and what his own impressions of these correspondents are. I know that his audience is broad — and, thanks to the readily-available podcasts of
LNL
, it is now international — but this is something else. I have never read anything quite like these letters. Margaret, of Malvern in Melbourne, sent a drawing she had made of her room and wrote, ‘It has blue walls, blue lino and blue curtains and a room facing west. Can you imagine the gloom when I wake up? On Fridays, the head shrink brings me my pills. For a moment, I go along with the medication. But it is numbing my body and mind.'

Then this from Bill of Neutral Bay in Sydney: ‘I really do enjoy your program, except that my batteries are a bit flat. Do you think you could talk a bit louder until I can afford some new batteries?' Either Bill has a strange idea of how radio works, or he has a good sense of humour.

***

‘Dearest Old Bean,' wrote Annie, of Mosman in Sydney, ‘I am 90 and six months old but I don't look old and I don't feel old. My hair has gone grey and I have a few wrinkles and warts. I heard myself referred to as, “Old
Annie, is she still alive? If she was on fire, I wouldn't piss on her to put her out.” I am so lonely without Len, Phillip. I would walk over hell barefoot to spend another hour with him.'

What I am looking through is a sort of social history of Australia. All the cares and delights one might imagine are here. All these people wanted to tell Adams about themselves.

Helen, of Fitzroy in Melbourne, wrote, ‘I am not soaring into fantasy land, just lying on my bed going quite bananas. I have the traditional hymn “Praise to the Lord” running through my head and I am talking in my mind with this person and that person and I'm scared of the night ahead of me. What do I do? Jesus Christ says it's okay to write to you. P-l-e-a-s-e send me a reply if you feel like it. Rang Mum early a.m. and when she discovered it was me ringing, she hung up on me. Dad visits me a lot.'

Joe, of Kew, wrote: ‘Apologies for bombarding you with irrelevancies but I've had a lot of fun and you've been invariably courteous and good humoured in your replies. However, from this letter, this nuisance will cease. My ex-prostrate has acted up and now I have bone cancer. I shall be in bliss in about two months. Thanks, mate, you've given me a lot of entertainment.'

But Fred, of Burleigh Heads, wrote: ‘I've written to you before. You were ungracious in your reply. You are unfair to pitch your ingrained biases with public money on ABC Radio. Your unrelenting libertarianism could be over-compensation for maggots eating your spirit.'

This is in sharp contract to an email from Pam, ‘May your bed never be empty of pretty young girls.'

***

From the flippant to the definitely serious. Jack, of Mt Eliza, wrote: ‘I read your article in
The Weekend Australian
. Three times. I thought it was amazing, wonderful, that anyone should speak the truth, the truth that has been covered up for so long. Religious intolerance was what it was called. A licence to commit every evil known to man. To enslave millions mentally is so much easier and more effective than the physical slavery they exercised in past ages in their so-called Roman Empire.'

Bob, of Torquay, wrote, ‘The most endearing characteristic of your column is that it is not comment in the usual journalistic sense but a weekly introspective ramble, seemingly prompted by whatever bounced off your head in the preceding seven days. The intimacy generated, at least to this reader, creates a familiarity.'

Anthony emailed, ‘Heard you on the radio the other night. Good show. I've got all those intimate sexual problems I want you to help me with. My main problem is the number of women who don't want me to make love because I'm not famous.'

Everything Adams does and has done — creating memorable advertisements, making movies, writing columns, answering letters and emails, hosting
LNL
— comes back to people. As much as he keeps his private life to himself, not attending parties, spending hours in his office alone or in his car driving to his Hunter Valley farm, he clearly seeks connection with people.

Josephine, of Lismore, wrote to him, ‘A man I know raped me in the mental health clinic but I wasn't well and let it happen. I shared a bed with the Devil himself. Do you know what this bastard did? My wonderful 18-year-old daughter woke up one morning to find him standing over her, naked. She called out, “Mum, Jason's being disgusting.” I put her on a bus back to her father's.'

***

Gerald, of Broken Hill, New South Wales, wrote, ‘The fact that Australians are racists is very obvious. I have been to posh parties with people who have turned out to be bigoted twits. After thirty-six years in Australia, I still have a strong Yorkshire accent and have learnt to avoid Australians in most of the towns in this country. I will generally not drink with them and certainly avoid country pubs. I will never go to Queensland or Tasmania because of my experiences there. Still I love Australia and I know some decent ordinary people and I love them, and they love me.'

Valerie, of Pascoe Vale in Melbourne, wrote, ‘After spending many years in Western countries, I believe the capacity for compassionate feelings becomes atrophied with civilisation. The more “socialised” people become, the more “breeding” they receive, the more they camouflage impulses, feelings and passions until there is nothing left but society marionettes doing the “right” things. If you ever mixed in Eastern European circles (particularly Slav), you might have noticed the greater spontaneity but also less palatable aspects, in a Western sense, such as hatred, unlimited capacity for intrigue, rudeness and cruelty.'

Then this from Jeff, in an email, ‘My brother calls you the conscience of a nation and while I don't agree with him, I have come to the conclusion that anyone who likes both Voltaire and
The Simpsons
can't be all that bad.'

The adoration continues, ‘My name is Anne and I'd like to thank you for hours and hours of stimulating reading. You seem to be a lone, sane, unrelenting voice against a mob of dickheads.'

I laughed at this letter from Tom, of Victor Harbour, South Australia, ‘I have complained to the ABC about the way you use
Late Night Live
to push your own views and ram down the listeners' throats your prejudices on religion, politics, homosexuality, etc. The reply I received was that it's extremely difficult for producers to handle people like you and we have to accept the good with the bad.'

Marjorie, of Monbulk in Victoria, wrote, ‘I am 92 years of age. Although a non-believer in some ways, I do believe in the benefits of starting each day with an optimistic approach. I lost my husband nine years ago and it left a big hole in my life. It is good to hear your voice in the wilderness of pessimism, speaking up loud and clear for optimism.'

And from Molly in Elizabeth, South Australia, ‘You are fortunate in that you do not need the prop of a belief in God and Jesus but there are many people who have such a need.'

But Michael, of Hebersham in New South Wales, said he is a retired minister of religion and told Adams, ‘You are my favourite agnostic. I enjoy the way you so gently take the mickey out of some of my religious friends. Our world needs such insightful and thoughtful people like you to help people like me keep our feet on the ground.'

Michael and all Adams' tens of thousands of other letter-writers pour their hearts out to a person they will never meet but who they feel will understand their fears, hopes, heights and despairs, loves and hates. He has that kind of relationship with his listeners and readers.

***

Graham, of Charters Towers, wrote: ‘The older I become, Phillip, the more I am aware that I know almost nothing about anything that amounts to anything. Holding that belief about myself is, I believe, the pathway to true wisdom.'

Andrew, of Toowoomba, Queensland, wrote: ‘I have found Gladys. She is a Pom and works as an announcer on 4DDB Toowoomba. If you get to hear one of her programs, it is a listening experience you will not forget.'

Leonie, of Seymour, Victoria, wrote: ‘Here is a photo of one of your listeners, not Gladys but Gabrielle. Gabrielle, my mum, will be 86 next Sunday and is avidly interested in life and is still learning. We both want you to keep up the good fight.'

Adam, of Ashfield, Sydney, wrote supporting Adams' campaign to retain Australianisms and listed these recent conversions to Americanisms (in brackets): ‘Bullshit! (No way!); biscuits (cookies); galah (jerk); bastard (arsehole); g'day! (yo!); pram (stroller); dummy (pacifier); chips (fries); bloke (guy).'

Ron, of Eaglehawk, Victoria, wrote: ‘Michael has freaked out and is upset, crying and suicidal since his bout on the grog and so on. Max has taken him to the mental health centre this arvo, trying to get help. The other day they declared that Michael wasn't schizophrenic at all but has a mild personality disorder.'

Alan, of Narrikup, Western Australia, wrote: ‘Average Australia, you know, quite likes Pauline Hanson, not because of what she stands for so much that she has the cheek, in these days of correctness, to enunciate the concerns that many feel about the fundamental changes they see around them, which they are downright frightened to talk about in case they are called racist.'

Peter, of Chirnside Park, Victoria, asked Adams, ‘Have you a secret cache of my unanswered letters? I was talking to a retired cleric yesterday and he told me he has written 2,767 letters to God and still awaits a reply.'

Valerie, of Mooroolbark, Victoria, wrote: ‘The Jews, Christians and Muslims have got it all wrong. There are only two types of people in the world, those who have brains and no religion and those who have a religion and no brains.'

Sylvia emailed: ‘I used to teach psychology and my students often asked me (as do others) what causes homosexuality. My inevitable reply is that I will tell them if they can tell me what causes heterosexuality. It fair stops them in their tracks.'

***

John, of Chatsworth, NSW, wrote: ‘I've worked in abattoirs, mines and picking vegetables and fruit up and down the east coast. I married when I was 41 and I'm still married. My wife Margaret and I are good friends. I drank as well as worked my way around Australia. I'm 47 now and have not had a beer for eight months or so, thanks to my friends at Alcoholics Anonymous. I've never officially studied anything since I left my formal schooling after half-completing the Intermediate Certificate at Marist Brothers College, Bendigo. However, I have become aware of the fact that I am no lesser or better person than anyone. My mission in life is to believe in myself and to help others know that they have minds as capable as any academic's and could do all that clever, famous people can do if they train and believe in themselves.'

Lois, of Braidwood, NSW, wrote chastising Adams, ‘I am not a Gladys, a term I find a little patronising (shades of Barry Humphries' gladioli) and suggestive of an uncritical species of female fan who is a bit in love with your undoubtedly attractive voice and charming what-the-hell personality. I can't help thinking that you need better intellectual resources to deal with the charges of bias and that you are to some extent hoist on the petard of your own commitment to objectivism.'

Even a parrot likes Adams' voice: Val, of Mt Hutton, NSW, wrote, ‘When you talk, my parrot, Billy, sits on top of his cage and whistles so loudly that I can hardly hear you. I'm sure he learns heaps from your programs.'

Joseph, of Darlinghurst, Sydney, wrote, ‘Remember the three murderers of Christ: the Government (rule by propaganda and fear), the Church (rule by superstition, power and confusion), and the Mob (rule by ignorance). Before mankind can live together in harmony and understanding, the Mob's ignorance must be transmitted into wisdom, the Church's superstition transmitted into illuminated faith and the state's fear into love.'