Rest in Peace, Simon Townsend.
And Amanda jam Nation. Well I thought I'd read about I'd read out when I first left university and got my first job, which was at Simon Townsend's Wonderworld. Welcome to my Wonder World, absolutely all right. So there I was at the end of nineteen eighty three with a Bachelor of Arts and Communication and no real idea of what to do with it. After moving back in with Mum and Dad in Sydney, I applied for all kinds of media jobs. Nothing. I even got a knock back from working in a bookshop. Ah, things were looking a little dire when I saw a position advertised at Simon Townsend's Wonder World. At the time, Simon Townsend's Wonderworld was a phenomenon. It was the most successful kids show in Australia and pretty much every school kid of many adults came home and switched on the telly at four pm each weekday to watch.
I was one of those kids.
What Are You? It was hosted by the man himself, Simon Townsend, who sat next to a bloodhound called Woodrow who'd slobber away all over the desk and more. Someone once had to pay to have the carpet in Channel ten's foyer cleaned after Woodrow let loose a torrent of steaming urine over the floor. Still, I've seen worse behavior at the Logis. Here's a big dog too.
They quite the leasage.
During the show, Simon through the stories featuring four gun reporters who might be doing anything from visiting the paddle pop factory, getting a rundown on how to string a tennis recket, or showing what it was like to be a police officer for a day. The stories were about all manner of things that interested kids or at the very least Simon. The job being advertised was for a researcher to line up these stories. Could it be more perfect? I had to apply. Those of us going for the job were asked to put together a research brief for a story. It had to be a real story using real resources. In other words, as well as possibly getting a new researcher, the show would get six or so stories research for free. Welcome to television.
There you go.
I can't remember much about the story our research, but I think it was either about dolphins or Oliver in Newton John.
Well.
Maybe I combined both ideas and planned to have Alivier writing flip either way, I can still picture the research report I handed in at the end of the day. It was handwritten, and the bits that weren't scribbled over were dotted in big clumps of smeared liquid paper. I had produced a giant mess, which I added to the pile of other reports that looked alarmingly ordered and professional. At the end of a stressful and long day, I headed home on the bus, praying furiously this would be my big break. It was not to be. I didn't get the job, and to make things worse, a friend of mine from UNI and scored the gig. I was so crushed I seriously thought I'd never get over it. I couldn't bring myself to watch the show. It was dead to me. But you know what what A few days later, Harvey Shaw, the executive producer, called and offered me a job as his assistant. Naturally, I accepted it, hardly believing my luck. I didn't know what an assistant was, but I'm sure I could wing it.
Is that like in TV world? Assistant?
What does that mean?
You know?
No, not a pleasure friend. What you're saying?
It wasn't that The industry rife with it back then.
Well, I don't know a smirching Harvey's good name, and it never was for me that night, very much so. That night I went to see the band Mental as Anything perform at the Roundhouse Bar. It's New South Wales UNI who I wanted to call out loud that I had a job in TV. I remember thinking, my life begins now.
That is so cool, that is so cool.
So I get the job as the executive producer's assistant. Wonder World turned out to be a rough and ready introduction to television. There was, of course, the massive ego to contend with every day, and the childish tantrums we had to endure. At least they were easy to deal with in his dreadful breath. But enough about the dog. I quickly discovered what an assistant did, or rather was supposed to do, and I was beyond ill equipped. On my first day, I was given a letter to type. What type? I can't type? I had to ask someone how to turn on the electric typewriter. I was so naive I didn't realize that I should have been mortified by that. My first few letters look like they've been typed by a mental patient. All the words were scrunched up in one corner, and the pages were covered in smudges of tippex that I hadn't let dry long enough before typing over them. Oh lucky me. Not long after, both researchers resigned within a week of each other. This seemed to be a regular pattern. I soon learned that the Friday afternoon cask wine and cheesels event was usually farewell parties every Friday. Fortunately, this time it worked out in my favor. Harvey clearly saw a convenient way to fill the researcher gap and restore some order in his office at the same time, I was finally a fully fledged researcher. Wow, it wasn't long before I realized this wasn't going to be easy. One of the stories Simon asked reporter Sherion jobs to do was called corners. Yes, corners, Simon had done some quirky story ideas that would drop into your pigeon hole. Simon would come up with quirky story ideas that he'd drop into your pigeon hole on green paper. We all dreaded the greenies. One day, the crew'd be heading off to a ball bearing factory. The next try to make magic out of a story on non Newtonian fluids. Reporter Philip Tanner remembers a Greenie asking him to do a story on car springs and windscreens because Simon was taking part in a car rally and needed.
Para that's outrageous.
There was a real element of Maguiva to Wonderworld, particularly when the crews traveled overseas on the cheap doesn't come near it. A karnae is a piece of paper issued by customers that pruised the production crew was only bringing in the camera gear to the country to use, not to sell. Serial numbers were checked in and out of airports and had to be stamped. It's like a passport for the gear. You can't travel without one, but we often did. Once on a trip to Monaco, the crew had to break the camera down into bits and stash it across their luggage, then reassemble it on location. And because they couldn't take lights with them, the crew had to ask talent to be filmed outside or to stand near windows. It wasn't unusual to have to borrow a ladder as a tripod because it was too hard to smuggle.
When this was Simon Townsheads.
Yeah, Simon townsho for.
A kids show.
You anca Well, the crew went to Monaco, we went to India, we went to Malaysia. It was all done for free because we'd do a giant story on the hotel.
Here's me just thinking. It was just always the paddle Pop Factory and then next.
Day the taj Mahal. Literally I say here. I always admired Harvey Shaw's flair for publicity. He was a first man. I heard out of the words, never let the truth get in a way of good story. He was the master. Once, while Philip and fellow reporter Edith Blister and Monaco, he sent out a press release saying Philip had scored a date with Princess Stephanie. He hadn't, of course, And when Philip's bag containing the stills, camera and all the crew money was nicked in the back of a cab in Rome, Harley let the media know that the Pope had personally intervened to ensure it's safe return. Sounds like I'm talking about Trump, doesn't it. Anyway. I was a researcher there for a year or so, and then a job as a reporter came up.
Woo.
So I was asked to audition. Can I read you what happened the day of the audition please? The day of the reporter audition arrived and applicants were instructed to wear jeans or pants. This, it's fair to assume, so our figures were easier to see. The long line of gorgeous girls in snug fitting pants was daunting. They looked like they absolutely belonged on television. There was also a batch of quirky, purple and pink haired kooks with fleurro lipstick who filled the I'm the individual quotient. I fell pathetically between the two. We were asked to talk a little bit about ourselves on camera, then answered some mortifying questions about why it was us and no one else who deserved to get the job. I remember one girl taking out a twenty dollar note, which I'd thought of that. As the long line was whittled down further and further, I found myself in the final ten. At this crucial stage, we were asked to do star jumps like the Rank and Sisters, the exercise hornbags of the day, who owned a gym and appeared on TV in high cut leotards. After I did a very lame star jump. I was asked to tell a joke. Let's face it, these are the two main components of a job on TV. I hear young events star jumps well a legendary. Despite my best efforts at both jumps and joke telling, I was told I'd missed out on the job, the one thing that took me years to get over, and in fact, I'm still not sure that I have was it word filtered down later that I was considered quote too broad across the bed for a children's show. Ouch, WHOA. They're hard lessons to learn in the early twenties, aren't they.
Oh? Auditions, TV auditions that believe me, I know because I've done you name a TV show, I have auditioned for it. It is the worst, most thankless thing, so much so my The last TV audition I did was last year and I said to them, this is it.
But I've heard you say that a number of No.
That's it, this is this is it. I just can't. I cannot. I don't have the emotional wherewithal to go through it.
It's hard, isn't it. When you're a kid, you put yourself up for it, and that's hard, but to do it now?
Yes, Oh it's the worst thing.
And I remember, you know, the first time I ever auditioned for TV was when I came to Sydney and they approached me to host a show with Lisa Wilkinson. And they really liked us as a duo on this Channel seven show called the Morning Shift to something, and they wanted me to leave radio for TV.
I'd only been at Triple AM for three months. That was my whole life.
I wanted to work at Triple AM, so I remember thinking, well, I'm not going to do that.
Would you ever have done that?
No?
Looking back the sliding doors. If I say to you right now, there's that sliding door. You say yes to the TV gig or you say yes to radio.
No, I don't think I could have done it. I don't think. I don't think. You know.
They were very happy they wanted me to, and they were happy to match give me more money to do the TV than the radio.
But how long, like probably a six month contract or something as opposed it.
We didn't get down to that path.
I remember the bosses at Triple M saying, you don't want to be seduced by TV. They also said to me, you've got a pretty ironclad contract here. We've looked after you, you've just signed. Think about your choices. I just come from a kid from nineteen seventy nine. All he wanted to do was work in radio. I hadn't really considered me as TV talent. The problem was with that.
I thought that being on TV would be easy and it's been ever since that day.
That's the last audition I actually got. So every show in Australia, from Who Wants to Be a Menaire? To Family Feud to.
The Bachelor, not as the Bachelor.
Now as the host of the Bachelor, to name that. There are a bunch of shows that never even saw the light of the day. Have you been? What's it called? That show you did talking about your generation? We both went for that.
It's just sol destroying and I know exactly how you feel. And they never give you any feedback.
You never hear it.
Well, what about feedback? You're too brought across the beam to a kid in her twenties for a kids show.
I would love that. So I say to them, what do you want? And the problem is with TV they don't know what they want and they've got no balls. TV executives have no balls. I'll go with the usual crew and that's what they do.