Michael Veitch: actor, writer

Michael Veitch, actor and writer, reflects on life

In between comic roles on D-Generation and Fast Forward and his progression to presenter of Sunday Arts on ABC1, the 46-year-old has written two books about World War II pilots

I developed my first tangible feelings of nostalgia at the age of eight. I saw huge yellow earthmovers tearing up the soil of the paddocks at the end of our road in Vermont in outer Melbourne. I felt sorry for the paddocks. A few weeks later we were off to a whole new way of growing up in East Melbourne.

When I was 11, I met an old bloke at a theatre-restaurant and that encounter fomented an interest that is still with me. I’d been building a model aeroplane of a Lancaster bomber and he had been a navigator in that very aeroplane – it was incredible.

Having my heart broken at the age of 17. I didn’t know a person could feel such agony and bewilderment.

In my final year at Melbourne Grammar, I conducted in the house choir competition and I missed bringing the choir in. The song was ruined and I’ve never got over the shame. But it taught me to be thorough, to know exactly what you have to do.

At a school revue in 1978 I did an impression of the headmaster, which went down very well. I had an early taste of celebrity and felt quite intoxicated by it.

Being in Poland during martial law in 1983. I felt sorry for the soldiers in their drab uniforms and started talking to a bloke in an enormous Russian tank about kangaroos. Oh, kangaroo! He got me to come up into the tank and look through the turret. The Polish family I was staying with was appalled. How dare you! So that’s when I realised that appearances can be deceptive.

I was 22 or 23 when I was called in for a coffee with D-Generation producer Kris Noble and realised he was giving me a job on TV. At the end he said, “Does that sound OK with you?” It was that easy. I’ve been lucky.

Getting a call from Steve Vizard one night. He offered me a job on a new comedy show. I said no and hung up. A week later he rang back and this time I said yes, thanks. That’s how Fast Forward started. From start to finish it was a great joy.

When I realised life can be hilarious. Four years ago, an executive producer at the ABC offered me the job of presenter on Sunday Arts. He had no idea who I was or that I had impersonated arts presenter Peter Ross. It wasn’t until after I’d signed the contract that someone told him I used to send the program up. He wanted to cancel the whole thing (but) it was too late.

The birth of my twin sons in 1991. Realising they were musical: seeing William pick up a banjo and devour it; watching Thomas play the cello. They’ve formed a bluegrass band. Seeing them on stage for the first time was incredible. And my 21-year-old daughter, Zoe, has just been made editor of Farrago at Melbourne university.

Watching my father’s mind getting dismantled piece by piece through dementia. Seeing how cruel life can be, how random and unfair to a man who had such a clever mind and wonderful memory, but knowing there’s nothing you can do about it.