And I do get some very interesting job offers. I really get to spend a lot of time at Giles’ gym at Coogee in Sydney trying to compensate for 20 years of ripping and tearing. And in return the company pretends to be paying you, which they really aren’t. Now what?įor a while I am called “non-executive” chairman of the advertising agency which means that you pretend to be still working when you really aren’t. Why? I fell out of my tree that is the best way I can put it. Don’t you think I have asked myself that very question ever since? Well, don’t you? Naturally I have no alternative but to toss it all in.ĭo not, for Christ’s sake, ask me why. Then, one day, I am sitting in my acre of absolute Rose Bay water-frontage home and I think: this is the great Australian dream come true. I have an open first class air ticket anywhere in the world anytime I want to go.Īnd I am making do on a salary and share of profits which even four years ago was in the $250,000 a year plus bracket which is better than a wack in the eye, which we will get to. I have every international credit card that’s ever been printed. My wife, Maggi, is driving a nice sleek white Mercedes Sports. I am driving a nice shiny black Rolls Royce, which is owned by the company. In fact, I think that it is pretty important I take you back about four years to when I was just a normal suburban home-loving fella just like everyone else who has sold off their advertising agency to the yanks for a couple of million bucks. I am even forced to admit there are better looking blokes around in the sex appeal department. I don’t sing, not even full of ink after rugby games. I don’t dance, not the fox trot or even the barn dance. I didn’t win amateur talent quests as a child. ![]() No names have been changed to protect the innocent and that goes especially for my name as I am especially innocent no matter what you may have read.įirst, I want you to realise that I am not another usual, run-of-the-mill multi-media superstar. ![]() 61-65.įor a start I want you to know that this is a true story. John Singleton, “My own ‘brilliant’ career (so far),”Īustralian Playboy, April 1981, pp.
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