Hogg-tied?

THE president of the Senate, John Hogg, hardly dominates the national political stage -- or the international one.

THE president of the Senate, John Hogg, hardly dominates the national political stage, but when given an opportunity to star on the international stage, he's even worse.

Hundreds of people in the ballroom of London's Park Plaza on Wednesday at the Commonwealth Parliamentary Conference had just heard from British Prime Minister David Cameron and Foreign Secretary William Hague when the conference moderator, House of Commons Speaker John Bercow, built the anticipation for the next speaker to visit the lectern: ladies and gentlemen -- John Hogg, all the way from Australia. Delegates made him welcome with thunderous applause, but Hogg, who occupied a front-row seat, remained seated. "Oh, no one has asked you to speak?" Bercow asked. "I was under the impression he was going to address us. No? No! OK. If you decide at any point in the next half-an-hour you want to [speak], you're very welcome." Everyone had a bit of a giggle, but you'd have thought the former general secretary of the Queensland Shop Assistants Union would have been quick enough on his feet to say a few words in this situation. No chance of him hogging the limelight, so to speak.

Beating himself up

NSW Premier Barry O'Farrell is new in the office but he's been around politics for a while, and when asked yesterday about possible budget cuts, he said he wasn't going to fall for that old journalist's trick of asking how long until he stopped beating his wife. Throwing caution to the winds, he continued: "I don't beat Rosemary -- I'm not home often enough to go anywhere near her." He was forced to apologise later in the day, saying he didn't want to trivialise domestic violence, but he should have remembered how sensitive domestic violence is and how much trouble Alexander Downer got in when a made a light-hearted quip about the "things that batter". Whatever were you thinking, Premier?

Tale of two families

THE Federation of Australia is 110 years old but the most senior department in the public service, that of Prime Minister and Cabinet, is 100 years old this month. You wonder how we got on for 10 years without them? Launching a history of the department's centenary yesterday, head mandarin Terry Moran told the story of one of the department's earliest employees, George Whitlam, who came to Canberra to work in the department in 1918. He took up residence with his brother Fred, then the solicitor-general, and his family, including their two children Gough and Freda. George took his niece and nephew to the Cotter, a creek just outside Canberra, where young Gough promptly fell in and had to be rescued by Treasury official Herb Yeend. In the usual small world of Australian politics, Herb Yeend's son, Geoffrey Yeend, was one of the senior officials in PM&C when Gough was prime minister, then outlasted Gough by becoming secretary of the department under Malcolm Fraser. Those Yeends are still at it -- Geoff's daughter Julie Yeend still works in the department. And Canberra is still a village.

Fly on the wall

QANTAS and the federal government are hardly in a love match at the moment, what with the national carrier grumbling that the carbon tax will cost it $100 million, while the Labor Party's allies in the union movement are upset with Qantas's plans for restructuring. Yet there was Qantas chief Alan Joyce and federal Treasurer Wayne Swan at Sydney airport yesterday, shaking hands and talking about manly things such as prostate cancer, which Qantas is getting behind. Swan and Joyce have both had issues with their prostate, hence their togetherness yesterday, but Swan was characteristically "on message" and refused to take any questions before jumping into the commonwealth car to quickly decamp after his joint appearance with Joyce, who probably wouldn't have minded a longer and quieter chat. The whole episode was like one of those days in war when they down weapons for a day, enjoy some camaraderie over the trenches, then get back to taking pot-shots at one another.

The brass ring

THERE was no sign of weak consumer confidence or financial instability when the big end of town came together for the London Olympic One Year to Go fundraising dinner at Sydney's Convention Centre on Wednesday night. Media chiefs John Hartigan, David Gyngell and Roger Corbett and retailers Westfield, Bing Lee and David Jones were among the throng who paid $12,500 a table to be part of the elite crowd of 800. Australian Olympic Committee boss John Coates, NSW Premier Barry O'Farrell, a busload of Olympians, including gold medallists Kieran Perkins, Zali Steggall, Kerri-Ann Pottharst, Jamie Dwyer and Anna Meares, watched in awe as other corporate heavyweights, fuelled by Tyrell's wines, battled to outbid each other in a live auction which ended with a boisterous stoush over a travel and tickets Games package, which sold for $68,000. The night netted over $500,000, which will help fund the Australian bid to beat the British on their home soil.