Hamish McBain

Hamish McBain calls me Sally Dressing. He's a logical mispronouncer. Salad dressing is sally dressing, and I'm Sally. He talks about Qantas, and flying to Thailand. He giggles. He's three and a half years old and I'm recovering from the pressure of almost running out of petrol on the bridge. The North Sydney petrol station is now a building site, and the nearest one is at Artarmon. Who knew?

In the morning I drive back down the highway with the rest of the north shore and flick between 702 and Radio National. Virginia Trioli begins every interview by asking for thoughts on the Soceroos win. I wonder how Frank Farina might be feeling. I last about 20 mins on am, then flick. They're reading the weather to Toy Death, a band that makes music only by playing childrens' toys. I feel instantly at home.