These were not opinions I shared, but I was there to entertain, rather than to argue, so I thought it best to steer clear of the subject. Postscript My audience for this speech on the Gold Coast consisted entirely of people working in Australian commercial radio. Most of them were still in shock from Howard's election victory. If they had been working for the ABC, the country's public service broadcasting network, it wouldn't have been a matter of "most" It would have been all of them. The prize is a life that our children will find worth living.

For that we must fight, and, for once, an adverb by George Bush applies exactly We must fight vociferously. Luciano sincerely believes that if the set is correctly arranged, he will look as thin as a reed He has been encouraged in this belief by his entourage. The entourage for Diana Ross looks like the remaining brothers of Malcolm X. They are there to ensure that Miss Ross will not be expected to do anything not specified in the contract, which includes singing Instead, she mimes to playback. Not even one improvised musical phrase during a conversation is permitted. I could go on about Barbra Streisand for the rest of the night.

I could go on for as long as she kept me waiting, which was five hours Fame has turned her into a monster of control Fame has convinced Bono that he is soma kind of economist. But these are talented people, and talent should be forgiven anything. And yet it is sad to see how the fame earned by talent can affect the personality. Robert Redford is always, on principle, an hour late for any meeting with anybody. If he ever has a cardiac arrest from the accumulated strain of having his facelifts lifted, he had better hope that the doctors in the emergency unit aren't working to the same timetable as he is. Did my own small measure of fame affect my personality? I don't think so I was always paranoid.

I was paranoid in Class 1B at Kogarah Infants School, when I won the spelling bee but Laurie Ryan was still given the first early mark just because he had kacked his pants earlier in the day Next day I beat him to it. But my own small measure of fame did affect my expectations, especially when I travelled. When I went into the aircraft, I got far too used to turning left. At the destination, I got far too used to looking for the limo driver holding a card with my name on it.

I got far too used to never booking my own tickets, to being greeted by the hotel manager as if I had just arrived from Stockholm after receiving the Nobel prize for physics, to getting the suite instead of a room, to the bathroom with enough towels for a symphony orchestra. But above all I got far too used to being recognised until one day, far too late but better late than never, it occurred to me that being recognised is not the same as recognition In that regard, television ruins everyone who appears on it You get used to so many people wanting to say hello. Some of them are cuckoo, but most of them are friendly at the very least And that, I finally realised, is what's wrong It's a too-easy familiarity. You are being hailed for being somebody, even when you have done nothing. So a few years ago I fired myself from the small screen and tried to find the path back to normality. I don't claim sainthood for this, and I suppose it could be said that I want it both ways. I want to be well-known enough to be asked to an event like this one tonight, and I want to be anonymous enough to disappear back into the crowd I came from The two desires are incompatible: I realise that.